Ties
by SLynn
Summary: Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of ‘Appreciation’. Sixth in my ‘Happy Enough’ series. GregSara and NickOFC Complete!
1. A New Year

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes:** Thank you Tripp3235 and RivenSky! I'd be lost without you both.

**Chapter 1: A New Year**

Greg hurried through the airport, having just retrieved his bags, anxious to get to his car and get home. A week away was a long time, especially now amid so many changes.

Before he'd even reached the elevators in the parking garage his phone came to life with music.

"Greg Sanders," he said as he came to a halt, blocking the residual noise as best he could by covering his free ear.

"Greg," Warrick returned, sounding a bit too happy. "Where're you at?"

"The airport," he answered suspiciously. "Why?"

Warrick said nothing, only laughed.

"No," Greg said, drawing the word out.

"Duty calls, man."

"But I just got home," Greg practically whined.

"Sorry," Warrick said.

"Technically," Greg continued, "I haven't even gotten home yet. I've gotten to the airport."

Greg, no longer content standing still, grabbed up his bags and began moving once more towards the elevators.

"Wasn't your flight supposed to land this morning?" Warrick asked.

"Yes," Greg ranted, "it was. At six this morning. I was bumped. Twice. I haven't even slept yet and I'm still on New York time."

"You volunteered for the conference."

"Yes," Greg agreed, pushing the 'up' button repeatedly as he waited. "I did. And you know why I did. I needed that conference. What I didn't volunteer for was to get stuck in coach for a six hour flight between some sixty-nine year old woman who kept touching me inappropriately and a middle-aged business man whose hygiene was questionable at best. I'm tired, Warrick. I spent last night at the airport and I can't do it right now. I can't."

"Alright," Warrick sighed, "I'll tell Catherine I couldn't get a hold of you."

"Why do I feel a but coming on?"

"But," Warrick added with a small laugh, "you should know that Kev is going to be there."

Greg froze, momentarily dropping the phone from his mouth before muttering a curse.

"Greg?" he could hear Warrick call out.

"I'm still here."

"Well?"

"You know," Greg answered, "I'm starting to think this is just some sort of sick power trip you're on."

Warrick laughed, knowing he wasn't serious.

"Make a guy an assistant and suddenly he's got all the underlings running around, jumping through hoops to get promoted."

"Did it work?"

"Yes," Greg reluctantly agreed, "it worked. Where am I going?"

Half an hour later Greg flashed his credentials to a skeptical looking officer before pulling to stop in the parking lot of the most prestigious elementary school in the Lake Las Vegas area. He knew why he'd gotten the look. Under normal circumstances Greg would have never arrived at a crime scene dressed like he was, but this wasn't normal circumstances.

Popping the trunk, Greg took out his collection kit before opening his suitcase to retrieve some more suitable attire. He'd have to make due with the jeans he'd had on, but the shirt he could fix.

"What are you doing?"

Greg turned around sharply midway through stripping off his old t-shirt.

"Oh good," he said to Sofia, still undressing, "keep a look out for me."

"Greg," she half-laughed, "it's forty degrees out and you're changing in the parking lot."

"I'm not about to go in there wearing a Violent Femme's shirt," Greg answered. "Not now at least. And definitely not here. I don't even want to be here."

Greg was talking and dressing as fast as possible, putting on his least wrinkled low-key button-up owned.

"Should I change the shoes?" he asked her.

Sofia shook her head from side to side in momentarily deliberation.

"No," she decided, "you're business casual enough. Besides, from what I've seen the people that run this place like to have the ranks distinguished."

"Great," Greg muttered under his breath, closing his trunk and gathering up his things as he followed Sofia to the building.

"So I'm confused," he said halfway there, "if you're here, why are we?"

"Did you forget? Shift change got moved back an hour. Instead of four, we leave at three now. No overtime, no exceptions."

Greg sighed as he recalled it; it was one of the many changes he was trying to adjust too.

"You asked for swing shift," Sofia reminded him.

"Not asked so much as lost a bet," Greg said, but with some return of good humor.

Sofia laughed, stopping just outside the main doors.

"One of us had to go," Greg continued.

This was the biggest adjustment so far. The lab had been completely reorganized because of budget cuts and the election of a new sheriff. Catherine and Warrick had both been promoted in the aftermath, Catherine finally getting a supervisory position on swings and Warrick coming along as her assistant. Sofia now completely headed day shift. Only graves had been reasonably left alone. Grissom had taken on a new member and all that remained was for him to pick an assistant supervisor to replace Catherine.

Amid all the reorganization two level two spots opened up, one on swing shift and one on graves. In reality, Greg had a better shot at the level two position on graves since there was no competition, but opted to move instead. He and Sara both figured that eventually Ecklie would force them onto different shifts, so they might as well forestall him.

"Well," she continued in a quieter voice once they headed inside, "I asked you to come to days."

"I know," he sighed, "and thank you, again. I'd just never get used to it. I love the nightlife."

"Yes well," she went on, "nightlife aside, humor me and say it was only because of the level two spot."

"Of course it was," he said with a real smile, "that's the only reason I'm here now, sleep-deprived and starving; earning my brownie points. When did they stop serving meals on flights?"

"Is it really that close between you and McNair?" Sofia asked skeptically.

"Apparently," Greg answered with a tinge of annoyance; not at Sofia for asking the question, but at the situation. He knew Catherine couldn't appear to be playing favorites, but he also knew that he was at least ten times better at his job than McNair was.

"You've got more experience then he does," Sofia shot back loyally.

"Technically, no. We both took level one spots about the same time, but because of the cancer treatments he's logged more actual field time."

Sofia grimaced. She'd never worked with McNair personally, but she knew him well by reputation. That reputation being that he was an ass.

"Warrick and Catherine are inside," Sofia said, indicating the large oak door labeled 'PRINCIPAL' they'd come to a stop in front of. "Did they fill you in yet?"

"Kidnapping, right?"

"Looks like it," Sofia answered, all business.

Before she could say anything more the door before them opened and Catherine, Warrick and a man Greg assumed must be the principal exited towards them. To his annoyance, they weren't the only ones. Kevin was with them too.

Catherine gave Greg a warm, but brief smile before assuring the principal, Mr. Constantine, that they'd do everything they could.

"You all set?" Sofia asked Catherine.

"Yes," she answered, "thank you. Ecklie told me the entire lab will be working this, so I'll call you to set up a meeting between me, you and Grissom."

"Sounds good," Sofia returned before saying goodbye.

Mr. Constantine left as well, opting to show her out.

"Warrick," Catherine began, "why don't you and Greg check out Allison's classroom, check her things. We don't have much to go on, but…"

"Where do you want me?" Kevin asked.

"You and I are going to retrace her route," Catherine said. "Day shift has already done a sweep, but another look might turn something up."

Catherine, wasting no time, headed straight for the door with Kevin fast on her heels.

"See you guys," Kevin smirked before the door shut behind him.

"I cannot deal with him now," Greg said through gritted teeth.

"Why does he bug you so much?" Warrick asked, with a faint smile of his own as they headed out the opposite door towards the main part of the school.

"I don't know," Greg admitted. "He's just so… Alright, I'm the first to admit I used to be cocky and maybe a little bit arrogant…"

"Used to be?" Warrick questioned.

"But this guy," Greg continued on as if there had been no interruption, "he's those things and he doesn't have a reason to be."

"You are too much," Warrick laughed as they found their way to the correct room.

"I'm serious."

"I know," Warrick said, "and yeah, he's a pain. But Cath really is trying to work this out for you. She knows you're the better investigator, alright? You need to down play the rivalry thing. Don't act like it's a contest, because between the two of you it isn't. Okay?"

"Is that like one of those Zen things?" Greg asked, as Warrick led them to the correct desk. "If I think like a level two, I'll be a level two?"

"When you said you hadn't gotten any sleep," Warrick questioned, "you really meant that, didn't you?"

"Why would I make that up?"

"Oh man," Warrick said rubbing his face, "if I'd… Just try and rein it in some, okay?"

"Am I tipping the scale?"

"A little bit."

"I can't help it," Greg said flatly, "I'm punchy."

"I know and its fine," Warrick reassured him, "but this case is very high profile. If anyone comes in…"

"I'll let you talk," Greg finished for him.

Warrick nodded, as he filed through the contents.

"What exactly happened?" Greg asked. "I know that the little girl was kidnapped, but…"

"You know who Paulette Whittington is, right?"

"Yeah," Greg answered. "She's the city council treasurer. Why?"

"It was her daughter, Allison. She's eight, gets picked up and dropped off here everyday by the chauffer. This afternoon the limo pulled up but it wasn't the usual driver."

"So there were witnesses."

"A few of her classmates," Warrick returned. "Charlie's talking to them in the guidance counselor's office. Said she started to get in the car, must have noticed something was off, tried to get out but was pulled back inside."

"So that's at least two perps," Greg concluded. "One to drive and one to subdue."

Warrick nodded.

"Wait," Greg said suddenly, "what are we doing looking in here for? If she was taken…"

"We've got to do something," Warrick interrupted, shaking his head. "Got nothing else to go on until we get a ransom note."

"Do her parents know?"

Again Warrick nodded.

"Cops are all over their place," Warrick added, "hoping for a call or something."

"So we're all working this?" Greg asked, heading to the back of the room where the coats and backpacks were generally kept.

"Sounds like it," Warrick said.

Warrick stopped what he was doing and turned back towards Greg with a much more serious air.

"Are you going to be okay with that?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Warrick just gave him a stern look.

"As long as we don't have to talk to each other, we'll be fine."

"How are you going to investigate a case and not talk?" Warrick shot back.

"I don't know," Greg shrugged with his back turned as he combed through sparse belongings left behind by the young girl.

"Hasn't this gone on long enough?" Warrick asked, heading to the back of the room to join him. "Can't you just let it go?"

"No," Greg said defensively.

"I'm not saying you're wrong…"

"Warrick," Greg cut in sharply and very seriously, "I have never asked you to take sides. Or Sara. Or Amy. Or anyone else for that matter. This is all between Nick and me. So really, drop it."

"Alright," Warrick said, throwing his hands up in defeat. "I'm just sorry you two can't work this out. You two were close."

"What can I say," Greg replied, turning his back once again, "things change."


	2. The More Things Change

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Chapter 2: The More Things Change…**

Sara checked the clock in the break room before standing and stretching. She'd been at the lab for almost two hours reviewing for a court appearance in the morning. Okay, so not just reviewing; she was also waiting for Greg.

That morning she had fully expected him to be at home sleeping when she returned from shift, but instead she got three voice mails and an empty bed. Then, to top things off, when he did call to let her know he was back in Vegas it was also to let her know that he had to go straight in to work.

Sara was trying to be understanding, knew that Greg was working a lot of extra and uncalled for hours in order to earn this promotion, but it was getting absurd.

Of course, it could be worse.

Nick and Amy had also gone to separate shifts. With Thompsen's retirement Amy moved into his old position on swings, but that wasn't good enough for the front office. Since Amy would be going on maternity leave in a few months, Ecklie had wanted to ensure that the rotating tech for swings and the new tech for graves were completely up to date on protocol and procedure. As a result, Amy got the worst hours of all, 7 p.m. to 3 a.m. And if that wasn't bad enough, as Greg had predicted, finding a replacement had not been easy.

On cue, Amy popped in with a new tech in tow; the third new DNA tech to be hired in so many months.

"Hi Sara," Amy said, with as much cheerfulness as she could manage. "This is Mia Dickerson, she starts tonight."

"Nice to meet you," Sara said coming over to shake the woman's hand.

"Sara Sanders is one of the investigators you'll be working with on grave shift," Amy filled in, fighting back a terrific yawn. "Excuse me."

"How was your appointment today?" Sara asked, unable to keep from smiling at Amy's ever expanding stomach.

"Invasive," Amy returned flatly. "I know that pregnancy is supposed to be one of the most miraculous, wonderful, awe-inspiring times in your life, but I can't wait for it to be over with."

Sara laughed but Mia looked mildly uncomfortable.

"I saw Greg earlier," Amy said, "I didn't think he was working today. Didn't he just get back?"

"When was he here?" Sara asked, knowing she arrived at about the start of Amy's shift.

"It was around six I think."

"Six?" Sara asked back in surprise. "How long have you been on?"

"Since five," Amy said, yawning once more. "Wendy had some problem with… honestly, I don't remember."

Amy looked at Mia with a mixture of hope and dread.

"Enough chit-chat," she sighed. "We've still got the rest of the lab to explore. I'll see you later."

"Bye, Amy. Mia."

Amy waved and Mia managed a small, tight smile in return.

Sara didn't think she'd last a week.

Gathering up her things, Sara returned them to the file cabinet before running into Warrick.

"You look beat," she commented.

"Guess you haven't heard the news," he returned.

"Why? What's going on?"

"You'll see," he answered cryptically, heading off towards Catherine's office.

"Hey," Sara called out, "is Greg back?"

"Check the locker room."

"Thanks," Sara called out over her shoulder as she hurried in that direction.

Sara entered the room only to discover it empty. She walked over to his locker, saw it undone, and then headed to the door for the men's shower.

Before she had the chance to knock, Greg came banging out the door looking extremely disgruntled. But that all changed when he saw her there.

"Hey," he said, taking her into his arms. "I'm so glad to see you."

Sara smiled and not knowing what to say, kissed him instead. They'd only been apart for a week, but it had felt much, much longer.

"You look exhausted," was the first thing she'd managed after they'd broke apart.

"I am," he returned, but still smiling. "All I want to do is to go home and crawl into bed with you."

"I'd like that too, but…"

"I know," he sighed, "work. It's alright; I'll save a spot for you in the morning."

"Did you forget?"

"Forget what?" he asked.

"I have court tomorrow morning. It might take all day."

"Seriously?" he asked completely crestfallen.

"I'm sorry," she returned, moving her hands to his face. "But you've got tomorrow off, right? Catherine can't ask…"

But Greg was already shaking his head.

"I'm on," he cut in. "We're all on until this case is solved. I'm supposed to be in her office now for a meeting."

"What case?"

"Allison Whittington," Greg answered. "She was kidnapped. It's been nine hours and still no ransom. Doesn't look good."

Sara let her hands fall to his shoulders.

"I shouldn't keep you then," she returned with dejection in her voice.

Greg nodded but hadn't moved. It was too nice being near her.

The main door opened loudly causing both Greg and Sara look over. Nick briefly acknowledged their presence without speaking before turning to his locker.

Sara looked back to Greg, who was still staring off at Nick.

"Aren't you ever going to let it go?" she whispered, drawing his attention back to her.

"I will when he admits he was wrong," he whispered back.

"It was his decision," she quietly reprimanded, "not yours. It's done. You can't…"

"I've got to go," Greg cut in quickly, kissing her on the cheek and heading for the door.

Nick looked up and watched him go before turning to Sara. She in turn, rolled her eyes and fixed him with a hard look.

"What?"

"What?" she echoed, coming over and sitting beside him. "You know what."

"It's his problem," Nick returned, "not mine."

"If you'd just talk to him…"

"I tried," he interrupted. "He won't listen. He doesn't want to listen."

Sara sighed and shook her head. She knew they were both stubborn, but this had gone on too long.

"It was my call and I did the right thing."

"No," Sara corrected, "you did the easy thing."

Nick slammed his locker but Sara didn't even flinch.

"Oretga's in jail," he shot back. "What else does he want?"

"She's not in jail," Sara said, growing more frustrated with each word. "She's in a minimum security mental health care facility because you let her plea out. Not for five years, not for ten, until she's well."

"Which isn't going to be for some time."

"Nick," Sara said, "she isn't mentally ill. She could walk out of there any time. You know it and so do I."

Nick exhaled and rubbed his face vigorously with both hands.

"What was I supposed to do?" he asked. "What, Sara? Was I supposed to let it go to trial? You know what would have happened, right? It wouldn't have been about her. The defense would have put Greg on trial instead. Dragged up God knows what and the media would have crucified him."

Sara nodded as her anger deflated. She knew it was true.

"I understand why you did it," Sara began but stopped as the door opened once again.

"Hey," Warrick called over to them, "Grissom and Catherine want everyone in the conference room, right now."

Sara gave him a look that said clearly 'this isn't over' before following Warrick out the door.

The room was fairly full with all of the swing and graves inside, and to her great surprise days as well. Additionally, all the techs were on hand from each shift. Greg was stuffed off in the far corner, making it next to impossible for Sara to join him. Instead she shuffled in as best she could.

"That everyone?" Ecklie asked, scanning the crowd once. "Good. Some of you know that Allison Whittington, daughter of Councilwoman Whittington, was taken from her school by unknown assailants at approximately 1400 hours. The local stations have received this video within the last hour. Whoever sent it is demanding it be run tomorrow during all the news broadcasts or else they'd start sending us pieces of the girl."

Ecklie paused to review his notes.

"Now,' he continued. "Detectives Brass and Sullivan will be heading this operation. Questions?"

"What are they asking for?" Tess Bates, grave's newest level two asked.

"So far, nothing."

This response was greeted with an outbreak of murmurs.

"They don't want anything?" Nick asked next.

"They want our attention," Grissom answered.

That seemed to silence the majority of the crowd.

"Do we have anything to go on? Any evidence?" Tess asked once more.

"Days and swings did a sweep of the lot she was taken from," Ecklie returned vaguely, clearly not wanting to admit they had nothing.

Tess turned and looked at Sara, bewildered. Sara fought hard to fight down the urge to laugh.

"Now," Ecklie continued as if he'd actually answered her, "we're all going to have a part of this case. I want each of the shifts to work together. We'll be having a daily all-hands meeting here at 1:45 p.m. to make sure that everyone is kept current."

Sara and Nick exchanged dark looks.

"Additionally," he went on, "I'm appointing one technician from each lab as a liaison. The liaison's will be in charge of briefing the lab and the station on any updates. Jacqui will be our lead for fingerprints. Archie is heading up A/V. Myers for ballistics. Hodges for trace and Sanders has agreed to step in for DNA."

Sara turned with a shocked expression towards Greg, as did the better half of the room. He said nothing, just smiled a very tight, forced smile and kept his arms tucked firmly across his chest.

"That's it then," Ecklie finished. "Your supervisors have your assignments."

Sara, instead of leaving with the rest, fought the tide to try and get to Greg. Amy beat her there by a long shot.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sara could just make-out Amy saying.

"There wasn't time," Greg said earnestly.

"Why are you heading DNA?" Sara asked, finally reaching them both.

Greg looked from one to the other and shook his head.

"I didn't ask to," he said, in a quieter voice obviously not wanting to be heard. "I didn't even want to. Catherine pulls me into her office, says some mumbo-jumbo about being a team player and next thing I know, I'm back in the freakin' lab."

Greg let out a grunt of frustration, before throwing his head back against the wall. His anger seemed to release most of Amy's, who was obviously upset at being so overlooked.

"For the whole case?" Sara questioned, knowing how important it was for him to be in the field now.

Greg shrugged. He had no idea how this was supposed to work.

"We'll figure something out," Amy said reassuringly. "I know what I'm doing, I can keep you up to date without you spending all your time here."

"Thanks," Greg replied sincerely, "but I know Ecklie. If he walks by that lab and I'm not in it… Oh man, I knew I should have told Warrick I wasn't coming in today. I knew it."

Neither Sara nor Amy knew what else to say.

"Well," Greg said to Amy, shaking his head, "we'd better get started. We picked up every spare Styrofoam cup, plastic bottle and cigarette butt within a mile radius of that school today. And it's all going to need to be processed before tomorrow's meeting."

"Is that a joke?"

"I wish," he shot back.

"Greg," Sara said, sounding concerned, "when's the last time you've slept?"

"I know," he sighed, "I know. But the quicker we do this the better. Amy and I can knock this out in no time, I'll see if Wendy will stay a little longer. Maybe the new tech too, what's her name?"

"Mia," Amy provided.

"Yeah, her. Between the four of us it'll take no time. I'll just stay for collection, I promise."

Sara gave him a once over, not convinced.

"I'll kick him out in two hours," Amy stepped in. "Tops."

"Just take it easy," Sara said with no small amount of concern.

"I always do."


	3. Exhaustion

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Chapter 3: Exhaustion**

By the time the lab held it's first of what promised to be many daily meetings the next afternoon, it was hard to say who looked the worst.

Brass and Charlie had both clearly not slept or even bothered to change. Charlie in particular looked like he'd aged ten years over night. Both were under an undue amount of stress and without wonder. The video aired as the kidnappers had wanted and had caused no small amount of panic in the city. Considering they said little and promised more to come, it was no surprise. Half the city had kept their kids home that day.

Archie had already briefed the room as to what he'd discovered about the tapes which wasn't much. Warrick had procured some surveillance video as well that actually captured the abduction, but it was so distant that neither an ID on the perpetrator or a view of the license plate on the limo could be obtained.

Greg spoke next. If there had been a contest for who looked the worst, he'd have won. It was probably most evident in the way he spoke; without any embellishment.

"Amy, Mia, Wendy and I garnered twenty-seven distinct DNA profiles from the evidence collected," Greg said, "all of which were run through CODIS without success."

"What other avenues are you pursuing?"

Greg, not surprised that Kevin would ask that question, didn't miss a beat.

"I wasn't finished."

Kevin said nothing, just smiled tightly as if to say 'go ahead'.

"We then obtained permission to run the profiles through the military's DNA database of service members and obtained two hits. One matched retired General Philippe Toscanini whose son attends the school. The other matched a Senior Airman Bonnie Watts who was recently discharged from the Air Force."

"Whose idea was it to check the military database?" Grissom asked out of curiosity.

Greg exchanged a fleeting look with Amy who shrugged slightly.

"Mine," he answered reluctantly.

Having nothing more to say, Greg sat down. Brass and Charlie consulted briefly before the younger man stood up.

"Greg passed us Bonnie Watts' name this morning," he said, "and a preliminary check shows that she has no affiliation with the school that could reasonably warrant her DNA being found on the grounds. Detective Brass and I have already called on her address without luck. At this time we consider her a person of interest, nothing more."

Charlie slumped back into his chair before anyone could question him.

"Alright," Ecklie said as he got to his feet, "any questions on what needs to be done?"

No one said a word and that seemed to end the meeting. There was nothing to be done except to wait.

"Did you get any sleep?" Warrick asked Greg, once the room had cleared some.

"Does it look that way?" he asked back, rubbing his eyes.

"Well," Charlie yawned, joining them, "no one is going to get any sleep until this is solved."

"I'd settle for getting to go home every now and then," Greg returned.

"I am sorry about that," Warrick said quite sincerely.

"It's not your fault," Greg reassured him. He quickly scanned the room with a frown. "Either of you seen Sara?"

"It's not my job to keep track of your wife," Warrick deadpanned.

"Ha, ha," Greg returned. "No, seriously? I thought everyone had to be here for these things."

"I saw her this morning on her way to the courthouse," Charlie provided. "Session must have run long."

Greg nodded, having completely forgotten that she'd told him as much earlier.

"Are you on now?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah…"

"And shouldn't you be getting to the lab?" Kevin asked, sidling over to them.

"Charlie. Greg," Brass called out from where he'd been talking with Grissom, Catherine and Ecklie. "Let's go."

Greg's confusion must have shown.

"You found the lead," Brass explained, "you get to chase it."

Greg cracked a real smile and Warrick tapped him on the back as he and Charlie headed out the door with Brass.

Kevin let out a divisive laugh.

"How is that fair?" he asked, wheeling on Warrick. "I collected the evidence. You'd think that would be enough, but no. Guess you have to be in with certain people to get recognized around here."

Warrick shook his head, saying nothing as he too headed out the door.

* * *

"Should I wake her?"

Hodges looked down at Amy's prone form on the couch before checking the clock.

"Nah," he decided. "She's got four more hours on shift. Let her sleep."

Wendy nodded but still looked uncertain.

"Should I wait for Greg then?"

He sighed, checking the clock once more.

"No," he decided. "I'll take it."

"What about the new tech?"

"Mia, right?"

Wendy nodded.

"When she shows up I'll get her started too," he said decisively.

She'd agreed and was about to leave when Greg, followed by Mia, entered the room.

"Oh good," Wendy said with a big smile, "you're here. I'd been looking for you."

"You should be looking for Amy," Greg returned, but not unkindly.

"Well," Wendy said, drawing it out with a significant look at the couch.

Greg laughed. Amy had worked just as hard, if not harder, than he had on those results. It was no wonder she was exhausted. Plus, given she was in her third trimester, she should be taking it easy.

"Okay," Greg said turning to the two ladies, "let's go to the lab. Hodges, if she wakes up…"

"I'll tell her to go home," he finished.

Greg nodded in agreement but before he could get out the door Hodges was talking again.

"How'd that lead pan out?"

"Not good," Greg sighed. "We can't find her. She's not at her house, she's not at work…"

"Does that make her more suspect or less?" Hodges asked again.

"Brass seems to think so," Greg answered. "Charlie doesn't. Who knows; this whole night's been like a wild goose chase."

Hodges actually smiled at that. He and Greg had recently found some common ground, aside from Amy. Neither of them could stand Kevin McNair. Hodges found him to be as much of a jerk as Greg did. It wasn't much to base a friendship off of, and Greg still refused to call him Dave, but it was a start.

Greg waved, saying nothing more, before making his way back to the lab, both ladies going with him.

"What have you got?" Greg asked Wendy as soon as they were all inside.

"Pretty standard stuff," Wendy said. "Two breaking and entering cases, one two-car collision and domestic abuse case. Nothing new on the kidnapping."

Greg nodded before turning to Mia.

"What do we do?"

"Sign over the evidence," Mia answered without hesitation, "and then review the priority."

"Good," Greg nodded without moving.

Wendy looked at him expectantly as she held out the forms.

"Aren't you going to sign?" Mia asked him.

"Nope," he said with a vigorous shake of his head, "this is not my lab. This is your lab."

Mia gave him the briefest of smiles.

"Okay," Wendy said, "I'm done. I'll see you both tomorrow."

"Goodnight," Greg called as she left the room; Mia said nothing.

Greg yawned as he scanned the evidence list.

"Now what?" he asked her.

"I'd like to start with the domestic abuse case."

"Sounds good," he agreed. "Do you need any help?"

She gave it some consideration while donning her gloves.

"No," she said confidently. "I've got it."

"Excellent," Greg said, yawning once again. "I am going to be in that layout room across the hall. If you need anything, and I mean anything, come get me. I don't care if it's just to ask where the bathroom is."

Mia chuckled softly.

Before Greg could make it out of the lab for a much needed break Nick showed up. He looked from Greg to Mia, clearly deliberating which of them to address.

"What?" Greg asked evenly.

"I'm just looking for my results," Nick answered, matching his tone exactly. "Amy said they'd be in tonight."

Greg turned to Mia.

"What case?" she asked, heading to the files.

"Marshall," Nick told her.

Mia found it easily enough and passed it over.

After scanning the page, Nick smiled and thanked her and went for the door.

"Nick," Greg called out, stopping him in his tracks.

"What?"

Greg thrust a clipboard at him.

"Sorry," Nick muttered, scrawling his name before leaving.

"Never," Greg said turning to Mia, "and I mean never let them out that door without signing for their evidence. That goes for everyone, me included. If they lose it they'll be back here trying to blame you in a heartbeat."

Mia nodded, point taken. Greg smiled in return and headed across the hall for a quick nap. A very quick nap; no sooner than he'd settled into the most comfortable chair the room had to offer and shut his eyes then the door flew open.

"Why are you still here?" Sara asked, coming over and sitting next to him.

"Because," Greg answered without opening his eyes, "I'm too tired to drive."

"I can drive you," she offered.

"No," he sighed. "Amy needs the rest more than I do and Mia shouldn't get left alone on her second night. I'm okay, really."

Sara stared at him until he finally looked her way.

"You don't look good," she stated bluntly.

"I haven't slept in…" he paused to check his watch, "…two and a half days. How am I supposed to look?"

"I know," Sara said, cupping his face in her hand.

"Stop worrying," Greg said reassuringly. "I've got a clean bill of health. Dr. Tracey even says so…"

"That reminds me," Sara cut in, "she called for you."

"When?"

"Today," she answered. "She said it was no hurry but she'd like you to call her back."

"Is that why you're stressing?"

"No," Sara said, "it's because I've missed you and…"

Greg smiled brightly at her, moving closer to capture her lips with his only to be disturbed by a small tap at the door.

"Yes?" Greg called out, sinking back into the chair.

"Sorry," Mia said as she came inside, "but Dr. Grissom is looking for you."

Sara stood to go but Mia quickly corrected her.

"I meant Greg," she said. "He's looking for Greg."

"Okay," he said, visibly taken aback as he got to his feet, "thanks Mia."

After he left, he turned to Sara; questioning her with his eyes.

"I don't know," she replied, "maybe he just wants to talk about the case."

"I hope so."


	4. Promises

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Chapter 4: Promises**

"You needed to see me?" Greg asked.

"Have a seat," Grissom answered without looking up from his work, "and shut the door behind you."

Greg pulled up his favorite chair and buried his head in his hands as he waited.

"How are you?" Grissom asked, having finally finished reading.

"Doing?"

"Yes, Greg. How are you doing?"

Greg shrugged in reply, but Grissom waited for and wanted more.

"I'm alright. Tired, but aren't we all?"

"We all appreciate your willingness to step up and help out in the lab," Grissom said, "but don't overextend yourself."

"Listen, I know why you're concerned," Greg started, "and I appreciate it, I do. But I've been in remission for over a year now."

"Exactly, remission," Grissom said, keying in on that last part. "You still need to take it easy."

"Is there like some sort of latent guilt you're feeling for working me too hard over the years?" Greg asked jokingly. "Because really, you might want to call my parents and form a support group. No one gave me cancer."

"I know no one gave you cancer," he said, unable to keep from smiling a bit. "I'm just trying to remind you that you're still a cancer patient. I know you're only trying to take the stress off of Amy, but let Catherine and I handle that. You've made a lot of progress, don't sacrifice it."

"Is this the official go home speech?"

Grissom nodded briefly.

"Alright," Greg relented, "I know I'm stretching it kind of thin, but I am only doing it because I want to help solve this case. That's it. Well, that and get promoted."

"Which do you want more?"

Greg didn't even have to think twice about it.

"The case."

* * *

Nick gently shook Amy on the shoulder.

"What?" she groaned, squinting as she turned towards the source of disturbance.

"Time to go home," he told her.

She repeated her question as she slipped into a sitting position on the couch.

"Yeah," Nick said, "you've had enough."

He held out a hand to her which she took, still dazed.

"What time is it?"

"Nearly two," he answered, leading her down the hall.

"No," she said through a yawn as she shook her head. "I've got a couple more hours."

"Not tonight you don't," he returned.

Amy didn't protest further; she was too tired to and before she knew it they were home.

"Come on," Nick encouraged, opening the door for her and shooing the cat away.

Amy stalked through the house; dropping her purse and coat along the way; taking off her shoes before she reached the bed and lay down.

"I can't stay long," Nick said as he sat down beside her.

"Who's running the lab?" Amy asked.

"Don't worry about the lab," he returned, reaching over and taking over her glasses.

"Does that mean Greg?"

"No," he answered without a hint of anger, "Grissom sent him home too."

"I know he didn't ask for it and I know he didn't want it, but I wish he hadn't taken over the lab."

"Amy…"

"I can handle that lab," she argued.

"Everyone knows that," he reasoned. "Greg too. I'm sure he only agreed to it because he didn't want you overworking yourself, that's all."

"But…"

"And if you want the truth, Ecklie shouldn't have let him. Neither of you should be working these types of hours."

"He does look bad," Amy said, sitting up a bit.

"Have you looked in a mirror lately?" Nick joked.

"I'm serious," Amy said, despite cracking a smile. "You know, maybe you…"

"I'm not talking to him."

"How long is this going to last?" Amy sighed.

"Get some sleep," Nick said instead of answering.

He leaned over and kissed her quickly before saying goodbye, having a shift to get back too.

It was complicated.

Nick could see Greg's point of view about the whole thing, the problem was that Greg wouldn't see his. And Nick couldn't fix that; only Greg could.

Part of him wished Amy and Sara would stop pushing him to make this right. They didn't seem to understand that he would if he could.

It just wasn't his call.

* * *

Sara made it home just before eight the next morning. She made as little noise as possible knowing Greg was sleeping in the back room. Since he'd switched to swing shift she'd taken to stay up most mornings so they could spend part of the day together. About the time he went to work, she'd go to sleep. It wasn't much of an adjustment to make for her, since she rarely slept long. The only hard part was that they didn't really share a bed anymore unless they had the same nights off.

Deciding to forgo her new routine, Sara slipped into the bedroom, changed and slid into bed beside Greg. It hadn't been easy; he hadn't left her much room. He laid spread out on his stomach, snoring softly. She couldn't help but smile as she cuddled up beside him.

The movement had been enough to jar him from his otherwise peaceful sleep.

"Hi" he said, rolling over so that they were face-to-face.

"Hi yourself," she returned playfully, wrapping her arms around his chest.

Greg laughed softly in the semi-darkness of their room, before kissing her on the forehead and squeezing her close. Sara seized the opportunity, the proximity, moving forward and kissing him hard. He responded instantly, hands moving to her hips as he rolled on top of her.

And then the phone rang.

"Son of a…"

Sara laughed, moving out from under him as she reached for the phone.

"It's probably a telemarketer," she said to him before answering.

Greg scoffed, adjusting to sit up slightly as he watched and waited for her to finish.

Sara hung up after saying very little.

"What?" Greg asked, seeing the serious look that had replaced the playful one in an instant.

"There's been another kidnapping."

* * *

"I'm never going to get used to this."

Nick laughed as he turned to the tall woman with the dark complexion and eyes sitting beside him. It hadn't taken long for Nick to adjust to her presence, Tess had fit right in. She was a quick learner, unafraid of asking questions or of hard work. She was a bit like Greg, a late bloomer; only deciding she wanted to be a CSI after having spent six years in the coroner's office in Los Angeles.

She smiled back at him, one eyebrow raised.

"Don't laugh," she said in mock seriousness. "I mean it. Am I supposed to sleep during the day or not?"

"CSIs never sleep," Warrick chipped in, taking a seat beside her. "Didn't Nicky tell you that?"

"Everyone sleeps," Tess shot back. "And I know this case is hot, but how are we supposed to concentrate when we can't even keep our eyes open?"

"Who are we waiting on?" Ecklie called out as he came into the room. Today's meeting was for investigators only, giving the techs a much needed break.

"Sara and Greg," Sofia supplied.

"Catherine too," Warrick said over the din. "She had to drop off Lindsey."

"Sorry," Catherine said almost before Warrick had finished speaking, rushing into the room with Sara and Greg right behind her.

"Alright then," Ecklie sighed, ready to begin. "Greg, would you mind shutting the door? Hit the lights too."

Greg did just that before taking a seat next to Sara.

"Michael Davies," Ecklie said as he flipped on the overhead. "I'm sure most of you know who he is."

He paused as a low mumble broke out. Everyone in Vegas knew who Michael Davies was. He was one of the premiere entertainers on the strip, home grown even. You couldn't drive two miles down the interstate without seeing one of his billboards.

"His wife woke up this morning and found an empty bed and a note. Sofia?"

Ecklie stepped aside as Sofia took over.

"We arrived at the house shortly after seven this morning. All indications were that the house had been locked and alarmed as usual. Mr. Davies' hours are late but his wife tells us that he never varies in his routine. The assumption was that he was abducted outside his home. Mrs. Davies' found the note on the hood of her husband's car. We found no fingerprints, no sign of a struggle and no fiber evidence yet, but did recover a stun gun which we believe was used to subdue Mr. Davies."

She paused and looked up, expecting to be questioned.

"Where was the stun gun found?" Greg asked.

"Under the car. The assumption is that in the struggle it was dropped, kicked out of sight and forgotten."

"Footprints?" Sara asked hopefully.

Sofia shook her head slowly.

"It looks as if the perps washed the driveway down before leaving. The garden hose was found out front and we've been assured that it is not normally kept there or kept running overnight."

"We're sure these two are connected?" Warrick asked.

Ecklie and Sofia nodded at nearly the same time.

"The note left at this scene indicated as much," Sofia provided.

"Did they leave a demand?" Nick asked now.

"Just a promise of more to come," Sofia answered with a shake of her head.

* * *

Greg half-listened to the press conference on the television as he dialed Dr. Tracey's number from the break room. Nearly everyone had stayed after the meeting, only a few opting to go home; Greg refused to be one of those few.

He looked over to the screen and saw Brass assuring the public that the Las Vegas police department was on top of things.

"Dr. Tracey's office," the familiar voice on the other end said. "How may I direct your call?"

"Hi," he said, "this is Greg Sanders. I'm returning her call."

"One minute," the woman said, quickly putting him on hold.

"Greg," Dr. Tracey came on next, sounding happy to hear from him. "How are you?"

"Good," he returned, having a hard time not sounding that way. "Sara said you called."

"I did," she said, "I have some news, I'm retiring."

"Really?" Greg asked surprised. Sure, Dr. Tracey was in her sixties but she struck him as the type of person who would never retire.

"Yes," she laughed in return. "And because of that, I'd like to set you up to see a colleague of mine; a fine oncologist who is still building his practice. What do you say?"

"Now?"

"Not now," she laughed again, "I was thinking tomorrow afternoon. Stop by after lunch, say one o'clock? Bring Sara along."

"Okay," he agreed. "Sure. I mean, I'll still need a doctor, right?"

"Right," she confirmed. "We'll see you then."

"Oh, Dr. Tracey," Greg managed before she hung up, "what's this new doc's name?"

"Lang," she answered. "Dr. Matthew Lang."

Greg got suddenly quiet.

"Do you know him?" she asked.

"I… I think we've met."

Dr. Tracey seemed to sense his unease.

"Is it a problem?" she asked, sounding concerned.

"No," Greg said too quickly. "No, I just… we'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Alright," she relented. "Till then."

"Bye," Greg said, hanging up the phone.

This wasn't good.


	5. Just Fine

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Chapter 5: Just Fine**

"Remind me," Greg said quietly, sitting down next to Sara at the break room table after he'd hung up the phone. "What is Charlie's boyfriend's name again?"

Sara looked up from her magazine kind of surprised.

Most of Charlie's friends knew he was gay. It wasn't a big deal, it wasn't something he talked about with everyone, but he didn't try and hide it either. Sara had only found out after she and Greg had gotten back together. Greg, as she understood it, had learned accidentally.

Sara and Greg had met Matt only three times. Once he and Charlie had come over when Sara had still been recovering from the fire. Another time they had all gone out to celebrate Charlie's birthday. And of course, the day Greg and Sara had gotten married up at Mount Charleston he'd been invited with Charlie. That had been the most recent time; it had only been three weeks ago.

"Matt," she answered, equally as quiet.

"Not his first name," Greg sighed, "I know that. I meant his last name. Isn't it Lowe?"

Sara shook her head.

"I think its Lang," she returned.

Greg looked disappointed.

"But he is an accountant, right?"

Sara actually laughed at that.

"No," she said. "He's a doctor. You know that. What's wrong with you?"

"Oh man," Greg sighed. "I've got to get out of this."

"What?"

"Dr. Tracey is retiring…"

"Really?"

"We'll talk about that later," Greg said, not wanting to get sidetracked. "That's why she called. She wants me and you to go meet another specialist tomorrow who just happens to be Charlie's boyfriend."

"So?"

"So," Greg returned, shocked. "Matt can't be my doctor."

"Why not?"

"Because it would be weird."

Sara fixed him with a hard stare.

"It would be like Warrick dating Dr. Jennings," Greg contended.

"So you're not okay with that?"

"What?" Greg said loud enough to get half the rooms attention.

"I'm joking," Sara laughed. "And you're overreacting. If Dr. Tracey is recommending him, I'm sure he's an excellent doctor. It's not like he's going to be going home and telling Charlie about your physicals or anything."

"But you don't know that."

"Stop being paranoid," Sara said bluntly. "We'll go meet him tomorrow, talk it out and see how it goes, alright?"

Greg agreed but didn't look convinced. Before he could protest further Catherine tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, Greg," she said, sounding a touch too sweet.

"What's up?" Greg asked, turning and looking up at her from over his shoulder.

"I've got a homicide out in Green Valley I need you to take."

"Okay," Greg said, standing up ready to go.

Greg didn't understand. Catherine was making it sound like asking him to do his job was some huge favor. And looking at him like it was too. It wasn't like he was on vacation or something. It wasn't even outside normal work hours.

"What?" he asked slowly as she continued to give him a very familiar look. It was one she gave him a lot in the lab; one that usually meant overtime or something grotesque; usually both.

"I need you to take Kevin with you."

Greg's first impulse was to whine and protest.

Instead, he fought it down and simply nodded.

"Alright?" she asked, sounding surprised.

"Of course it is," Greg said with a smile that was becoming more and more familiar lately; a very tight smile.

Sara and Catherine, knowing how he loathed Kevin, gave him identical looks of disbelief.

"Maybe I should just…"

"Really, Catherine," Greg interrupted, "I'm fine with it."

Catherine looked him over once more, on the verge of telling him no and sending him home for the night. She and Grissom had already talked twice about him. She knew he was really giving it his all and she appreciated that, but at what cost? He couldn't have gotten more than a few hours sleep last night, was back in early for another meeting today and hadn't once asked for a break.

"Really," he repeated as if sensing her indecision.

"Okay," she relented. "But after this go home. I don't want you burning out."

"Me? Never."

Catherine smiled at him before handing over the information. Sara didn't look as pleased.

* * *

An hour into grave shift and there was little for anyone to do. They were experiencing a natural lull in crime, the kidnapping case excluded. Not that anyone was complaining, there was even a certain sense of relief in the lab.

"Hey Dave," Nick said heading into trace, "got a minute?"

"I've got several," he said, moving away from the magazine he'd been reading.

"Can you take a look at this? Sara and I were going over that stun gun Sofia found at the latest kidnapping and managed to scrape that out. We're both thinking sulfur but wanted to be sure."

Hodges took the sample, a small thin dust of yellow, and sniffed it before putting it underneath the microscope.

"That's sulfur alright," he confirmed. "You can tell by the smell. What are you thinking?"

"I don't know," Nick admitted. "It's not like this stuff is just lying around. It might have been transfer from the perp."

"I can analyze it further," Hodges offered. "Tell you the grade of the sample. Let you know at least where it came from, what it's used for."

"Thanks," Nick said with a nod.

"Just doing my job," Hodges returned, swinging around to get the necessary forms.

Nick moved out of one lab and down towards another. Amy, despite his protests, had come in that night. She'd pretty much slept since he'd taken her home the other day, but had begun to complain that she was bored. Try as he might, there was no getting her to take it easy. Her OB had even suggested cutting her hours, but Amy had resisted.

"Is it just you tonight?" he asked, surveying the empty lab.

"Mia had to take care of some business at her old job today," Amy remarked. "Change her 401k, health care, stuff like that."

"Why not ask Travis to take a shift?"

"He's at an away game, remember?"

"No," Nick said, shaking his head as he leaned against the counter. "And I don't know how you do. The only person I can keep track of in this lab is you."

Amy started to laugh but stopped abruptly, staring past Nick into the hall. Nick turned to see what caught her attention so completely and had to do a double take.

It was Greg and Kevin. At least, he thought it was Greg. Greg was so completely covered in muck it was hard to tell. Kevin, of course, was perfectly clean.

"I'll just drop off this for testing," Kevin said just outside the door to the DNA lab.

Greg didn't even acknowledge him, didn't even break stride, just resolutely headed for the locker room.

"What happened?" Amy asked.

"Oh that," Kevin said, with the faintest of laughs. "We had a db in a runoff. Pretty messy stuff. You haven't been in the field so you wouldn't understand; it's tough sometimes. But it's all apart of the job, right Nick?"

Nick didn't even bother answering, just shook his head in disbelief.

"Funny," Amy returned, "you don't look messy."

"Are you kidding?" he asked incredulously as he handed her the bag. "I wasn't about to go climbing through that for whatever this is. Do you know how much these shoes cost?"

"That," Nick said, standing upright, "is called evidence. It's also called your job. And no one cares how much your shoes cost. Next time you go to a scene you'd better be prepared."

"Oh yeah," Kevin said, "of course. Sanders insisted on driving and my work boots were in the other truck. If I'd of driven…"

"I don't care what your excuse is," Nick interrupted shutting him down.

Kevin stood there for another moment.

"We'll need that right away," he said to Amy curtly. "Page me when it's done."

"You'll have it when I'm done," she said with a crisp nod. "And I'll be sure to let Greg know."

"Right," he returned before backing out of the lab and heading off to the locker room as well.

"I hate him," Amy said as soon as he was out of earshot.

"Join the club."

"Why does Catherine put up with him?" Amy asked, dropping her voice down to a near whisper. "Can't she reprimand him or do us all a favor and fire him?"

"You don't know?"

"Know what?" Amy asked.

"He's the new sheriff's nephew."

"When did you hear that?" Amy asked, sounding stricken that he hadn't shared it before.

"The other night," Nick answered. "Sara told me."

"Does that mean Catherine is going to have to give him that promotion?"

"I hope not," Nick answered.

They both stopped talking momentarily as Kevin reemerged from the locker room and strode down the hall towards the main exit.

"Speaking of promotions," Amy ventured, "has Grissom made his decision yet?"

Nick shook his head.

"Well," she continued, "what do you think?"

"That he'll pick Sara," he said evenly, without a hint of anger. "We're pretty even experience wise, but…"

"She's the favorite," Amy added.

Nick shrugged, neither confirming nor denying it.

"You never know," Amy said brightly. "You do want it, right?"

"To be the assistant supervisor? Of course I do. You know that."

"Yeah," she said, "it's just that sometimes… you just don't let it show."

Nick nodded in agreement with her. He knew that about himself. He just always figured there was no need to get too excited about something that may never happen.

"I'm going to go…" Nick trailed off, indicating the locker room with a jerk of his head.

Amy understood. Nick wanted to check on Greg. She wanted to point out that this would be easier to do if they were talking, but refrained. Eventually they'd work this out. They had too.

Upon entering the room Nick saw Greg sitting right in front of his locker with his head down. He only moved when he'd heard the door shut and even then it was only a casual glance, but that was enough to get Greg moving.

He got to his feet uneasily and opened the locker.

Nick headed to his as well on pretense.

"I hear Kev doesn't like to get his shoes dirty," Nick said with his back turned.

"Yeah," Greg returned with a faint laugh.

"You headed home?" Nick asked, turning to face him.

Greg still had his back to him, but interestingly enough had one hand on his locker door and the other flat against the door next to him essentially propping himself up.

"Greg?" Nick called out just as he saw his legs start to buckle.

Nick managed to grab hold of him from behind just as Greg seemed to regain some of his strength.

"I'm fine," he said automatically as Nick helped lower him to the bench.

"This is not fine."

"I just took too hot of a shower," Greg insisted. "It's nothing."

"Nothing?" Nick asked disbelievingly. "Greg…"

"It's nothing," Greg repeated more firmly. "I need some sleep. That's all."

"How are you getting home?" Nick asked. "Because you can't…"

"I pretty much know what I can and can't do," Greg cut in sharply.

"Suit yourself," Nick said, throwing up his hands and walking away.

Nick shook his head angrily as he left the room. If Greg didn't want his help, that was fine with him.


	6. Connection

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes:** Thank you Tripp3235 and RivenSky for all of your help.

**Chapter 6: Connection**

Sara had showed up not five minutes after Nick had left to take Greg home. Greg knew what that meant; that despite telling him to butt out Nick had done the exact opposite.

Basically, he'd told on him.

Greg didn't argue with her, he didn't have the energy. Sara looked beat too, but only had time to drop him off before heading back in herself.

Greg hadn't even made it to the bedroom that night, just sat on the couch and fell straight to sleep. He vaguely remembered Sara coming home that morning and ushering him to their room, but not much else. His next clear memory was of the alarm clock going off.

"Why'd we set this?" he mumbled as he fumbled to turn it off.

"We're meeting Dr. Tracey," Sara reminded him. "In two hours."

Greg reluctantly sat up and stretched. He felt a little better but would need a shower to really feel alive again.

Halfway through washing his hair Sara joined him with a smile. Having not had the chance to be alone in over a week, needless to say, they were late to their appointment.

Dr. Tracey didn't seem to mind. She smiled and asked them to take a seat; Dr. Lang was running late as well.

"How are you both?" she asked with a broad smile.

"Good," Greg answered with a smile of his own.

"But busy," the older woman returned, sounding concerned. "I can see that."

Greg nodded, he couldn't argue it. He felt better today, after having finally gotten some decent sleep, but he still felt drained. Sara didn't look too good herself. Greg knew she was worried about him, but he was honestly worried for her too. She'd recovered amazingly from the fire, but her lungs were weaker than they had been.

"As you can imagine," Sara provided. "I'm sure you've heard about the kidnappings…"

Dr. Tracey nodded in understanding. Everyone in town had heard about the kidnappings.

A short tap at the door told them Dr. Lang had arrived. Dr. Tracey got up and welcomed him. Sara and Greg stood as well to greet him.

"Dr. Lang," the other doctor greeted, "here is Mr. Sanders, who I've told you about."

Greg smiled meekly as he reached over and shook Matt's hand who laughed feebly.

"I knew the name was familiar," Matt said awkwardly. "I just wasn't sure. How are you doing, Greg? Sara?"

"Good," Greg returned, feeling embarrassed himself without any reason to. "I thought it might be you, too."

"You all know each other then?" Dr. Tracey asked.

"Greg and Sara work with Charlie," Matt confirmed.

"I didn't know that," she responded, sounding delighted as they all sat down again.

For a moment there was complete silence.

"I could tell you about my practice and my methods," Matt said having relaxed considerably, "but I think that might be a waste of all our time. I completely understand if you're not comfortable with me as your physician, Greg."

"I'm that easy to read, huh?" Greg laughed back.

"A little," he said with a slight nod and smile. "Trust me, I'm not offended. I know it might be odd for you to talk to me about your health and to be honest I think it would be just as odd for me to hear it."

Greg laughed, feeling relieved.

"Is there someone else you can recommend?" Sara asked Dr. Tracey.

"I'll come up with a list," she said with a nod. "I'm sorry this isn't going to work out though, but at least now you'll know who to ask a second opinion of, just in case."

Before Greg could say anything more his phone beeped indicating he had a new text message; Sara's phone soon did the same.

The lab was calling.

* * *

Nick was the last one there.

He'd arrived just as the meeting was breaking up. Nick understood why they hadn't waited on him since he arrived nearly an hour after the page. And it wasn't like Nick didn't already know what had happened; it had been on every radio station in town.

There'd been another kidnapping.

"What'd I miss?" he asked Tess as soon as he could.

"Your page," she deadpanned.

Nick rolled his eyes at her and she laughed.

"Nikki Devlon was taken right outside the Golden Oasis spa," Tess continued.

"Devlon, that sounds familiar…"

"Wife of Darryl Devlon," Sara provided having just joined the two of them. "Built most of the casinos in town."

"Did we get anything this time?"

"Just two eyewitnesses," Sara answered.

Nick took a quick look around the room which was divided clearly by shift minus the supervisors who were all talking with Ecklie.

"I thought we were all working together on this?" he asked both women.

"What's there to work on?" Tess asked in return.

"She's right, we've got nothing."

"Greg!"

Everyone in the room turned to Hodges who had yelled from the doorway. Charlie was behind him, holding some sort of package and looking anxious.

Greg didn't question it just joined them quickly in the hallway where the three of them began a heated, whispered conversation.

"What's that?" Tess asked Nick and Sara.

"It's got to be evidence," Nick answered, trying to get a look for himself.

"DNA evidence," Sara added, curious as to what it could be.

Again there was another interruption. This time Archie came rushing in, straight to Ecklie and his group. Nick just caught the words 'video' and 'demand' before all of them followed him out the door.

"You guys know what's going on?" Warrick asked having joined the three grave shift investigators.

"No idea," Nick answered. "But I think we might have finally caught a break."

* * *

"All I can tell you is that it's a finger. I'm guessing from a woman since most men don't get French manicures."

"Greg," Charlie said, leaning back against the counter, "we know that. We need to know whose finger it is."

"And I would love to tell," Greg practically sighed, "but without something to compare it against, DNA is useless."

"But you're running it."

"Yes," Greg nodded. "I am. But, we'll still need another profile."

Charlie sighed and ran his hands over his face.

"What?"

"The sheriff doesn't want us upsetting the family."

"Are you joking?"

"I wish," Charlie answered. "He says they've been traumatized enough."

Greg looked down at the finger in the collection pan and could see his point. Still, if they wanted to know for sure that this was a part of Nikki Devlon, they'd need a sample of her DNA.

"There's nothing more I can tell you," Greg finished.

"Nothing? Really?"

Greg shrugged.

"What do you suggest I do?" Charlie asked, clearly at his wits end.

"I suggest you ask the family for a hairbrush or a toothbrush or something for me confirm that this is hers."

Charlie nodded wearily.

"What about the ring?" he asked.

"The ring…"

"And don't tell me its five carets," Charlie interrupted quickly.

"I wasn't going to, but since you brought it up I think it's actually closer to seven."

Charlie rolled his eyes at him.

"It's with Hodges now," Greg continued, "but I did find two hairs with skin tags and some blood on it. I'm still processing so don't ask."

"Thank you," Charlie said, really meaning it as he headed out the door.

"Don't thank me, bring me back something to run the finger against," Greg yelled after him.

"What finger?" Amy asked having just showed up for the evening.

Greg picked it up with a pair of surgical tongs for her to see.

"Ew," Amy said, putting a hand over her mouth and taking a huge step backwards. "Put it down. Next time just tell me I'm better off not knowing."

Greg did as she asked and covered it up.

"Is that from one of the kidnapping victims?"

"We think so," Greg answered as Amy once more came into the lab. "Won't be sure until we verify it with DNA, but probably. I was just fixing to take this to Nick. Ecklie wants him to see if he can figure out what they used to snap it off."

Amy waved her hand at him again; she didn't want specifics. Greg smiled despite her obvious discomfort.

"Let him know from me that his mother called again," Amy said. "And she wants an answer."

"Nothing serious, right?" Greg inquired as he signed things over to her.

"No, nothing," Amy said a bit too quickly.

Greg gave her a curious look, a look she was determinedly ignoring.

"Amy," he said.

"What?"

"What's going on?"

"Nothing," she lied unconvincingly.

"Come on Amy…"

Greg stopped badgering her immediately upon noticing her tear up.

"What's going on?" he asked, truly concerned as he came across the room and put an arm around her.

"It's nothing," Amy said wiping her eyes. "Really. It's stupid. I'm just hopped up on pregnancy hormones."

"I'm not buying that."

"Okay," Amy sighed. "But really, tell no one."

"Why do all of our conversations start like that?" he asked, causing her to laugh.

"Because you have a big mouth," she returned.

"My big mouth aside," he said, "what's wrong?"

Amy looked around the lab before taking a seat.

"Everything is wrong."

"I can't do much about that."

"I'm serious," Amy continued. "Maybe it is just the hormones talking, but nothing is right. You and Nick won't talk to each other, Nick and I hardly get to talk anymore, I'm worried all the time…"

"About what?"

"Just, stupid stuff," Amy answered, growing more and more upset. "I have a thousand 'what ifs' fly through my head every day. About the baby, about me and Nick, about Karen and her new boyfriend…"

"Karen's got a boyfriend?"

"Yes and he's a jerk. But she's in love… Ugh. It's just… and when it's not that, it's work. I worry about lab work I've finished, work I haven't finished. And when it isn't work its family again. My parents want us to get married and his parents want us to move…"

"Move?" Greg interrupted loudly.

"Yes," Amy said after hushing him. "Move. They want us to move to Texas so that they can be closer to the baby. And I can't move to Texas, Greg. I can't. Have you been to Texas? It's flat. I can't live somewhere that flat. And I don't even like Dairy Queen."

"So don't move," Greg said, obviously not liking the idea either.

"I think Nick wants to though."

"But if you don't…"

"I know," she returned. "I know. And he'd never go without me. I just don't want to keep him here if he doesn't want to stay."

Greg said nothing, just looked down at his feet for a minute.

"I'm sorry to dump this on you; I've been dying to say something."

"Amy you can always talk to me."

"I know, but with you and Nick not talking it hasn't exactly been easy to do."

Greg nodded and said nothing to that. He wasn't sure what to say.

"I'm just overreacting. We'll get everything worked out. I know how to deal with my own parents…"

"It's his though, isn't it?"

"I want them to like me."

"That doesn't mean you have to move to Texas," Greg countered.

Amy nodded but didn't look convinced.

"I'll talk to Nick."

"What?"

"I'll...I'll talk to him. I don't know what I'll say or what good it will do, but I can at least get him to see that you two need to talk."

"Greg, really you don't…"

"It's fine, Amy. Really."


	7. On the Inside

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes:** Thank you Tripp3235 and RivenSky for your continued help and general awesomeness. You'll probably both tell me that awesomeness is not a word and if it was a word I'd have misspelled it, but that's alright. I know that just means you care! Also, for some reason the typical line isn't working on right now, so in place I've put some X's. Enjoy!

**Chapter 7: On the Inside**

Greg hesitated for a moment outside the layout room he knew Nick was in. Having no idea what he'd say, he took a deep breath and opened the door; he might as well get this over with.

Nick looked up from his paperwork with a curious expression.

"Got a finger for you," Greg started lamely.

"From the kidnapping?" Nick asked looking surprised; the news hadn't gotten round the lab yet.

"Yeah," Greg said stepping over to him and putting it down. "Charlie asked me to run DNA but, it's pretty pointless. It came with a ring too; Hodges has it."

Nick stared down at the severed digit.

"Grissom wanted you to do an impression for tool marks," Greg continued, feeling more and more awkward. "You can see it was snapped off with something. Well, yeah, it would have to be something, right? I think he was hoping it was unique. We've already printed and got nothing."

Nick took the tongs and took a look at the bone.

"Looks pretty clean," he remarked. "Maybe a cleaver. When's he need it by?"

"He didn't say," Greg answered. "Soon probably. Hot case, right?"

"Yeah," Nick said with a short nod, not certain what was happening. All he knew was that Greg was acting normal again. Well, not normal really. He was trying to act normal. "Anything else?"

"Um…" Greg started, pursing his lips together tightly as he rocked on his heels. "Yes actually. There is something else."

"More evidence?" Nick asked slowly.

"No," Greg shook his head. "It's about Amy."

"She alright?" Nick asked, half rising.

"She's fine," Greg quickly assured him. "She's fine. Really. We were just talking and…"

"And what?" Nick asked, growing tired of all this back and forth.

"Okay," Greg said taking a deep breath and sitting down, "she said you wanted to move to Texas and she's just…"

"Wait a minute, what? I never said I wanted to move to Texas. My parents want us too, but…"

"She thinks you do too."

"No," Nick shook his head. "I mean, we've talked about it. It's not going to be easy raising a kid here, especially with the hours we work and you know, if we were closer to family…"

"What about Karen?"

"We can't ask her; she's got her own life."

"Yeah, Amy told me she's got a boyfriend."

"Keith," Nick said with a nod, "yeah, Amy can't stand him. Karen met him at work."

Greg nodded, debating internally what to say next.

"Sara and I will always be here, you know, to help."

"Thanks," Nick returned, sounding stunned.

"I mean, it's not like we…"

Greg stopped suddenly, looking down.

Nick, really having no idea where any of this was coming from or going to, just nodded along.

"I just wanted to make sure you knew you had other options," Greg finished lamely after clearing his throat.

"Thanks," Nick repeated.

Neither of them spoke until they were thankfully interrupted by Grissom at the door.

"You two," he said, poking his head inside, "A/V room. Now."

"Let me just put this on…"

But before Greg could finish, Grissom had come into the room and was looking inquisitively at the finger.

"Do you see that?" Grissom asked them both, peering down at the evidence pan.

Greg and Nick exchanged a look behind the other man's back before Nick finally asked, "What?"

"Discoloration," Grissom remarked, pointing to the ragged end.

"Is that a burn?" Greg asked.

"No," Nick shook his head, "I think it's green."

"Green? Like gangrene?" Greg asked again, taking a small step backwards.

"Possibly," Grissom concurred. "Send this to Doc when you're done."

Nick nodded, looking down with renewed disdain at the finger.

"But later," Grissom said firmly. "We need to get going."

"Is it the tape?" Greg asked as he locked the evidence in the storage fridge.

Grissom just nodded as they both followed him down the hall.

The room was relatively empty, Greg had been expecting everyone. Instead it was only the three of them, Archie, Sara, Warrick and Catherine.

"Where's everyone else?" Nick asked as he shut the door behind him.

Grissom and Catherine exchanged a look before he began speaking.

"Ecklie wants to scale back the investigation."

"Why?" Warrick asked immediately.

"We'll get to that. Let's watch the tape first," Catherine said instead of answered.

Archie, seeing Grissom nod his approval, ran it for them on the big screen.

The first image on the screen was of Allison Whittington, bound and gagged and lying on a floor of a fairly nondescript room. That was quickly followed by a shot of Michael Davies, also tied up but in a noticeably different room.

The screen then goes blank and a digitally modified voice begins to speak.

"Today we took Mrs. Devlon. It was easy. It is very easy for us. Listen carefully, this is what we want. Freedom. We want the state to release Carole Toselli, John St Paul and Alan Townsend. We want their freedom."

The video then showed the two jails the inmates were housed in out in the Nevada desert.

"You will release each of these prisoners one at a time and show it on the news. The first prisoner must go free within forty-eight hours of having received this message. When we see that this has happened we will call Detective Sullivan and inform him of the location where a hostage can be picked up. Consider this an exchange. You have one week to release them all. If you do not, we will not be responsible for what happens."

The video ended abruptly.

For a full minute there was silence as they all considered what they'd heard.

When everyone did start talking, it was a mess. They all spoke at once, not really hearing one another.

"Prisoner exchange?"

"Who are the three prisoners?"

"Two days? We've only got two days?"

"Is the city going to meet their demands?"

"Wait," Sara said loudly over everyone else, quieting the room. "How did they know Charlie was a part of the investigation? Brass has been leading the news conferences; he's in charge. Why didn't they ask for him?"

Grissom smiled at her and they all suddenly knew why so few of them were in the room.

"Someone in this lab or at the station is talking," Catherine said evenly. "From now on we're the only investigators on this case. Understood?"

Everyone gave a brief nod.

They understood it perfectly.

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

"I've been looking for you."

Greg looked up from where he sat on the bench as Charlie strode over to him.

"Everything okay?" Greg asked, noting Charlie's less than friendly demeanor.

Charlie sighed and sat down opposite him.

"Fine," he answered, an obvious lie. "Brass got the sheriff to see reason and I just dropped off Mrs. Devlon's hairbrush and toothbrush with Amy. Thought I should let you know as well."

"I'd better get back in there then," Greg said as he stood, putting all his stuff back into his locker. "I don't know if I'm supposed to process everything now or what. This whole thing is insane."

Charlie let out a snort of disgust.

"What?" Greg asked, shutting his locker.

Charlie stood now as well and quickly walked the room, checking to make sure they were alone.

"I got called in to Internal Affairs," he said quietly as he made his way back.

"Over the tape?"

Charlie just nodded, hands on his hips and looking down.

"That's…that's…" Greg couldn't find the words for it.

"Crazy, right?" Charlie provided. "Like if I was stupid enough to be involved in the first place I'd put my own name on that tape."

"Are you still on the case?"

"Only because of Brass," Charlie answered. "But they're checking into me. Looking into my bank accounts, my credit, everything."

Greg let out a low whistle and understood now why Charlie looked so angry.

"I know there's nothing I can do…"

"Thanks," Charlie cut him off, "really. It's fine. I've got nothing to hide. My dad's going to have a fit when I tell him; I probably shouldn't but if I don't, one of his buddies will."

Greg and Charlie made their way towards the lab together.

"I'd offer to come forward as a character witness, but I'm pretty sure that would hurt more than help," Greg said with a laugh.

Charlie laughed too.

Before he could say anything more, Greg's phone went off.

"Excuse me," he said, stopping and turning away before answering it.

"Don't hang up on me," a familiar voice said on the other end, "I've got something to say."

Greg swore softly catching Charlie's attention.

"I changed this number because of you," Greg said angrily. "How did you get this one?"

"Public relations."

Greg swore again, louder this time.

"I told them not to give it out."

"I'm good at my job," Mitch Anderson, a man Greg had hoped to never hear from again, replied.

"What do you want?" Greg sighed.

"To let you know that you have a leak."

"What do you mean?" Greg asked.

"You know what I mean."

"And you know this…"

"Check out tomorrow's paper," Mitch said.

"Why?" Greg asked, suddenly taking this call much more seriously.

"I'm sure you'll put your finger on it."

Greg groaned and rubbed his forehead.

"Who is it?" he asked point blank, not willing to play any more games.

"I don't know."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying," Mitch returned. "Really."

"And if you did know…"

"I couldn't tell you."

Greg nodded as he pressed his lips together, biting back a bitter refrain.

"So why even call?" Greg questioned.

"I figured I owed you one."

"One?"

"Alright," Mitch relented, "more than one. I didn't want your office caught off guard."

"So you gave us, what, five hours notice?"

"Best I could do."

"Fine," Greg said tersely and hung up the phone.

"What was that all about?" Charlie asked, looking concerned.

"DNA is going to have to wait," Greg sighed. "We need to talk to Catherine and Grissom."


	8. Running in Circles

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Chapter 8: Running in Circles**

Greg lucked out. Both Catherine and Grissom were not only still in the lab, but in Grissom's office talking as he walked right in without knocking, Charlie fast on his heels.

"Mitch Anderson just called me," he said as the door slid shut.

"The reporter?" Catherine asked, perking up.

Greg just nodded, still feeling angry over the whole thing.

"The Sun's running an article tomorrow on the case. They know about the finger."

"What?" Catherine exclaimed.

Grissom just sat back, looking shocked.

"How? How did he find out?" she asked.

"He wouldn't tell me," Greg answered, with a shake of his head. "Said he didn't know and even if he did…"

"First amendment," Grissom finished.

"Well," Catherine said, "they can't run it. They can't. It's all we've got and the panic. Think of the panic it's going to cause. The city is already calling for resignations over this. It's going to be bedlam."

Grissom nodded in understanding before picking up the phone. A few short words later, obviously to Brass, he hung up and looked up again.

"How much did he know?" Grissom asked.

"He wouldn't say," Greg returned. "He implied he knew about the finger, but nothing more."

"Nothing about the tape or the stun gun?"

Greg thought it over, replaying the conversation in his head before giving a definitive shake of his head.

"Not a word about this to anyone," Grissom warned, "and I mean anyone, Greg. If he calls back, get everything you can out of him and tell me, Catherine or Brass straight away. Got it?"

Greg nodded.

"We can try and get a gag order," Catherine suggested, "but at this hour…"

"I know a few judges that wouldn't mind being woken up, not over this at least," Charlie supplied.

"Good," Grissom said.

Everything he could do being done Greg left for the DNA lab. Charlie stayed back, deciding to wait on Brass with Grissom and Catherine.

Amy and Mia were both in the lab when he arrived and looked surprised to see him.

"I thought you were going home?" Amy asked.

"Anyone talk to you yet about the kidnapping case?" Greg asked in return.

"No," Amy said, drawing the word out. "Why? I saw you had some samples but…"

"Mia," Greg interrupted, "can you give Amy and me a minute?"

Both women looked puzzled, not by the request alone but by the serious posture he'd assumed.

"I'll be in the break room," she said with a short nod as she left.

Greg shut the door behind her.

"What's going on?" Amy asked.

"I can't tell you," Greg answered. "Grissom will have to fill you in, but for now I'm going to run all the DNA for the kidnapping case. Including those new samples."

Amy looked as if she was about to argue the point but quickly changed her mind. She knew that Greg wasn't being possessive; that he had to be acting on orders and for the good of the case. But it wasn't easy.

"Can I help you at all?" she asked instead.

Greg sighed and she could see the exhaustion etched into his face as he slowly shook his head.

"Well," she said lightly, "can I stay in the lab?"

Greg let out a short laugh.

"Yeah, I don't think we need to go that far."

"Okay," she returned. "I'll just go get Mia and we'll stay out of your hair."

"Thanks," Greg said with a short nod.

Amy returned it with a smile and was on her way.

XXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXX

"Greg," Sara called from the door of the lab. "Come on. Grissom and Catherine want us again."

Mia was the only one left in the lab with him, Amy having just gone home.

"One minute," he said, tapping the printer as if that action would make it speed up.

"Hurry," she snapped.

Greg looked up at her and smiled, not at all disturbed by her gruffness.

"I can't help it if this thing is slow."

"Yeah, well, we don't need to be late."

"Go then," he said, looking back down. "Tell them I'm coming I just need this first."

"Fine," Sara said shortly, gone before he had a chance to say anything else.

"And she thinks I have mood swings," Greg muttered under his breath as he resumed his impatient tapping.

"What?" Mia asked, looking up at him expectantly.

"Nothing," Greg said quickly as the printer finally whirred to life. "Just… nothing."

He took the papers and felt Mia's eyes still on him.

"You two been married long?" she asked, surprising him. Mia didn't seem like the type of person interested in other people's lives. At least not of their lives outside the lab.

"About a month," Greg said as he quickly scanned the results.

"And the honeymoon's already over?"

Greg laughed and shook his head.

"Who has time for a honeymoon?" he shot back.

Mia smiled and resumed her work.

"Huh," he said out loud as he read the results for a second time.

"Everything okay?"

But Greg didn't answer, just rechecked everything determined to run it all again when he got back.

"Greg?" Mia called out.

"Yeah, fine," he said half distracted. "I guess."

Mia gave him a hard look as he stood there, literally scratching his head.

"I've got to get to that meeting," he said, still sounding off as he hustled to lock up everything but his results. "I'll be back soon, I think."

Greg didn't wait for any type of acknowledgement from her as he headed quickly out the door towards Grissom's office. It was only after he got there and found it empty that he realized Sara had never said where the meeting was going to be.

Greg turned round and headed back up the hall towards A/V only to find another empty room. Three layout rooms later, he found them. Grissom stopped briefly mid-sentence as Greg came into the room; they'd obviously been going over the lab's latest compromise.

In addition to the group gathered before, Amy and Hodges had joined them along with Charlie and Brass.

"We need to trace the exact path that piece of evidence took through the lab," Grissom was saying as Greg leaned against the far wall.

"Well, everyone was briefed on it," Warrick said matter-of-factly.

Greg perked up at this, not recalling it at all. As far he remembered Charlie had brought it directly to him and Hodges. He was on the verge of saying something when Brass spoke up.

"No," he said firmly. "I was in on that briefing and whoever talked to the Sun knew more than just the basics. They'd read the lab results."

Greg couldn't keep quiet any longer. He was still holding the lab results on the finger, perplexing or not. No one had read them but him.

"That's not possible," he said before he could stop himself and the whole room turned as one and stared. "I mean… I've just finished, there's no way…"

Grissom was shaking his head and Greg knew he'd missed something big.

"The Sun didn't know about the finger."

"But…" Greg tried to interrupt.

"They knew about the stun gun," Grissom continued. "And more importantly, the sulfur found on it."

"But…" Greg tried again.

"We'll talk about it after the meeting," Grissom said reassuringly.

Greg nodded shortly and tried not to feel too stupid.

"Okay," Catherine picked up. "It was collected by Sofia, logged in and briefed. Where next?"

"Must have been Jacqui," Nick said. "She turned it over to me after printing it."

"Are we sure about that?" Grissom asked to which Nick only shrugged.

"I'll ask her when she comes in," Catherine said firmly.

"So, then what?" Grissom asked Nick.

"I tracked down the manufacturer and that's when I first saw the sulfur on the gun. From there I took it straight to Hodges."

Grissom turned to the other man who nodded briefly and picked up where Nick had left off.

"I collected a sample, logged it, verified it was sulfur and did further analysis to determine the grade."

"And?" Catherine asked.

"And," he said simply, "I turned it back in."

"Who did the report go to?" Brass asked, unable to help himself.

"Straight to Ecklie," Hodges answered.

"Was anyone else in the lab?" Catherine tried and to her surprise Hodges snorted a laugh.

"Who wasn't?" he asked back. "Nick, Amy, Sanders… half of the lab comes through any given hour."

"What other cases were you running?" Grissom tried.

"Um," Hodges said, shutting his eyes momentarily. "I'd have to double check but I think it was the same night that Sanders had a homicide in Green Valley and Warrick had a fender-bender in North Vegas. Again, I'd have to double check to be sure."

Grissom looked from Warrick to Greg and saw them both nod in agreement. Greg remembered it well enough; the crime scene had been a huge mess. That and he'd nearly collapsed from exhaustion in the locker room.

"Alright," Grissom sighed. "What do we have that's new?"

Greg hesitated, before clearing his throat and standing a bit straighter.

"Greg," Grissom said in acknowledgement.

"Charlie brought me Mrs. Devlon's hairbrush earlier and I was able to run a comparison. And, well, I'm going to run it again to be sure, but either that wasn't her hairbrush or it wasn't her finger because DNA wasn't even close."

Again, the whole room seemed to be staring at him with surprise.

"But," he continued, "I think it's more likely not her finger since I also ran the hairs we found caught in the stone and they matched the ones from the brush."

"Whose finger is it?" Warrick asked.

Greg shrugged.

"I can't tell you that," Hodges piped up, "but I can tell you it's someone with a predilection for press on nails."

"Not Darryl Devlon's wife," Catherine said in disbelief. "Acrylic, maybe. But she was nabbed outside the Golden Oasis. No one with press-on nails is allowed within a hundred yards of that place."

"This one was definitely fake," Hodges confirmed. "Held down with super glue even."

"Yeah," Nick added. "I took it over to Doc and he said it looked as if it had been frozen and thawed out again. That's why there was some discoloration on the skin. But it was definitely surgically removed post-mortem."

"Okay," Grissom said slowly, "who has that kind of access to a corpse?"


	9. Man Down

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Chapter 9: Man Down**

It was nearly six in the morning and Greg just could not concentrate.

He knew Warrick was talking, and that what he was saying was important, but Greg could not stop wondering if he'd put on clean socks or not.

"Are you even listening?"

Greg looked up sharply from his shoes and raised his eyebrows.

"I know it's late," Warrick said sitting down across from him, "but we've got to figure this out."

"I know, I know. It just seems… there is no connection. None. We've all been through it; none of those prisoners are even remotely related."

Warrick sighed and sunk his head into his hands, knowing Greg was right.

It was frustrating.

Since they'd been given those three names Warrick had done nothing but pour through case files, documents, and court transcripts hoping to find a common thread.

"What about Anderson?" Warrick tried, knowing Greg knew the most about the so-called reporter.

"What about him?" Greg asked back, fighting back a yawn. "Do I think he's in on this? No. No, it's not… He's not a criminal, well not this kind of criminal. Plus, he'd never tip his hand. I think he was just doing what he said, paying me back. Although you'd think he'd have been a bit more to the point; instead of just making me look like an idiot. He said 'finger' and I thought he meant it literally. Glad I didn't tell him that or we'd…"

"Greg," Warrick said forcefully. "Focus, alright?"

"Sorry," Greg returned sheepishly.

Everyone was getting punchy. Some people when punchy got hyper, like himself. Others got crabby, like Warrick.

And Sara.

"Maybe we're thinking about this backwards," Warrick said standing and returning to the whiteboard he'd been writing on; compulsively listing and re-listing the things known about the prisoners whose release had been demanded.

Greg watched as Warrick once more wiped it clean and started fresh.

"What about the victims?" Warrick asked.

"What about them?"

Warrick turned and gave him a hard look.

"Oh," Greg said, shifting through the myriad of papers before him. "Okay, first one was Allison Whittington, eight, taken from her elementary school. Then we have Michael Davies, fifty-two and abducted in front of his home. And finally, Nikki, that's two k's, Devlon, age thirty-four and nabbed in the parking lot of the Golden Oasis spa."

"Okay," Warrick said having written it down and stepping back to take it in. "What do they have in common."

"Well, as far as we know none of them are missing a finger."

"What else?" Warrick asked with a shake of his head.

"Nothing," Greg said exasperated. "Nothing. Nothing. They couldn't have picked three more random people. Well, okay, they have money. Not Allison, her family though. Lots of money."

"Look closer," Warrick said, pulling up a chair again and shifting through the papers for himself. "There has to be something."

Greg and Warrick started over, reading everything they had for the umpteenth time.

"Hey," Nick said knocking sharply on the door, "break room. Quick. They're releasing Townsend."

Warrick looked up, baffled by the news. Greg was too. He'd never assumed that they would actually give in to the demands.

The three men filed in just as the anchor came on the screen.

She said nothing about the release being related to the kidnapping, just that it was a surprise early parole. Alan Townsend was scheduled for release next month, having served five years already for embezzlement.

It was as if a light bulb suddenly went off in Greg's head.

"That's the connection," he said to Warrick hurriedly. "That's it. Parole. All three of them."

It wasn't just Warrick's attention that was caught, but Nick and Tess's as well.

"What?"

"All of them," Greg said nodding. "Man, how'd I not see that?"

Warrick and Greg both rushed out of the room to confirm it. Sure enough, Greg was right. All three of the prisoners that the group of kidnappers had demanded release for were on the state's list of future parolees."

"This thing makes less sense the more you think about it," Warrick sighed. "They're carrying off these kidnappings with perfect precision but all they want is for three cons to get paroled a few weeks ahead of time? There's got to be more to it than this. Has to."

"I don't know," Greg yawned, "I don't. I don't even care right now. I can't keep my eyes open long enough to care. Just release them early and get it done with."

Another knock and the door and this time Sara looked in on them.

"I'm going to go see if Catherine is still in," Warrick said as he headed to the door. "Tell her the good news, I guess."

"What was that about?" Sara asked taking Warrick's empty chair.

"Nothing," Greg said with a shake of his head, "really. The case. We finally found the link in the demand."

Sara nodded, but was looking down at the papers on the table, obviously not paying attention.

"Yeah," Greg continued, "all of the prisoners that the kidnappers want released are part of a group to legalize Chihuahua racing."

"That's good," Sara said with a nod, still not looking at him.

"It's all the rage in Australia. They fit them with these little saddles and Barbie dolls that have little tiny riding crops."

"What?" Sara asked suddenly joining the conversation.

Greg laughed and she realized the joke.

"Sorry," she said sincerely, picking up one of the papers, "but did you see this?"

"See what?" Greg asked, moving around the table to have a look.

"Sandra Davies, our second victim's wife" Sara said pointing. "She's got a deposit in her personal account from Darryl Devlon."

"A big one," Greg said letting out a whistle as he flipped through the read out. "Several. Looks like a regular payment. But for what? Could it be for services?"

"What kind of services?" Sara asked back.

"Well, this is Vegas."

"Why is sex the first thing you always think of?"

"I didn't say sex," Greg shot back, but unable to keep the smile entirely off his face. "I said services. Vegas does have a service based economy."

"Well for that much money she wasn't just cleaning his house."

XXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXXX

By the time they'd finished with meetings and reviews of all the evidence it was well after noon. Greg insisted Sara go home, but for him there was no point. Greg, Warrick and Catherine all opted to stay; just showered, changed and went straight back to work.

The meeting for swing shift was short. Crime hadn't stopped just because they had a major case. Catherine, far less personable than normal, was curt, crisp and to the point. She practically dictated out the assignments with an attitude that screamed 'whiners will be shot'.

As soon as she left the room, Kevin let out a snort.

"This is exactly why I didn't want to work for a woman," he said, addressing Warrick and Greg with what he thought must be a winning smile. "Must be her time of the month, right?"

Greg, who regularly pushed Warrick's buttons, mostly accidentally, wasn't prepared for the look that came across the other man's face at that prompting.

"Listen here," Warrick said shutting the door he'd been almost out of and crossing the room to Kevin in a series of quick steps, "I don't know who raised you, but I wasn't brought up like that. You'd better show that woman, and every other woman in this lab some respect; because if you don't you're going to end up answering to me. Do we understand each other?"

For one horrible moment Greg thought he was actually going to be put in a position where he'd have to defend Kevin. Not that Kevin wouldn't deserve the ass kicking; more because he didn't want Warrick to lose his job.

Luckily, Kevin didn't push his luck and nodded his agreement.

Warrick, glared at him a few seconds longer before turning and leaving as he'd originally planned.

"Do you believe that?" Kevin asked after a heavy pause.

"That he didn't kill you?" Greg asked back. "Honestly, no."

"That was completely…"

"Don't," Greg said, cutting him off. "Just don't. I don't want to hear it either. We've got a case to get to and I just want this night over with."

Kevin sulked the entire way to the scene, ignoring Greg in favor of his Blackberry. Greg didn't care. It was a nice change. Normally he had to listen to him complain.

As Greg parked the SUV he was a bit surprised at the lack of police.

"Is this the address?" he wondered out loud.

"Maybe the princess made a mistake," Kevin shot back irritably.

"Seriously, I don't want to hear it anymore than Warrick does. You have problems working for Catherine, take it up with Ecklie."

Kevin rolled his eyes and Greg silently hoped he'd said enough to shut him up.

But as they approached the store, it felt more and more off.

"This isn't right," Greg said, stopping in his tracks and looking around.

The entire street was deserted. The shop they were supposed to be investigating was even closed up with security doors.

"Well you drove," Kevin said, looking equally perplexed. "Maybe you got the wrong street."

"No," Greg said, checking the assignment sheet just the same. "This is it. Look the window is busted."

"Where are the cops then?"

Just as Kevin finished his question they both heard the approach of fast footsteps.

"What the hell are you two doing here?"

Greg turned, surprised to see Charlie looking irate and brandishing a two-way radio.

"We got called out to a smash and grab," Greg explained, but Charlie was already shaking his head.

"You need to get out of here," he said quickly. "Now. Both of you."

"What's going…"

From that point on things slowed dramatically.

Greg registered the sound of a vehicle approaching even as he'd begun to ask the question. All three of them turned in time to see an older model black van roll up on them.

Charlie saw the gun first, but it was Greg who reacted. Instinctively he took hold of Kevin by the collar and pushed him to the ground moments before Charlie did the same to him.

After that it was chaos.

All he could do was watch.

The van door came flying open and a person with a black ski mask shoved a blindfolded girl out towards them. At the same time there was a deafening series of pops, just audible above the girl's hysterical sobs.

Without looking Greg felt Charlie hit the ground beside him, taking cover.

The van, driven by another masked person, sped off.

Kevin was on his feet first, heading towards the girl that had to be Allison Whittington.

"Are you hurt?" he asked her over and over without receiving a reply.

Greg, feeling dazed, got to his feet and shook his head. It all had the feeling of a very bad dream.

"What happened?"

Greg looked over and found himself suddenly accosted by Brass as time resumed its normal pace. Other officers appeared out of nowhere, surrounding the scene.

"I don't know," he honestly answered.

Looking back to Kevin he saw that he was busy, doing his job. Collecting evidence and details from the girl with much more sympathy than Greg would have expected.

"Get the paramedics," Brass was saying just behind him.

"I don't think she's hurt," Greg returned, still watching Kevin and the girl.

"Not for her," Brass said angrily, "for him."

Greg turned on the spot, horror struck.

Charlie hadn't taken cover, he'd been shot.


	10. True Target

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Chapter 10: True Target**

Nick hadn't been able to get Sara on the phone. No one had. So, after dropping Amy off at the lab, he went as quickly as possible to her house and hoped she was still sleeping.

The last thing he wanted was for her to find out from the news.

Those hopes were quickly dashed when she answered the door almost immediately with red, puffy eyes, clutching the phone.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, quickly wiping her eyes with her free hand.

"I tried calling," he apologized.

"Is there another lead in the case?" she asked, stepping away from the door and hanging up the receiver.

Nick stared at her in confusion as she filled a glass with water, drank it and refilled it again.

"Are you alright?"

"What's happened?" she asked back, looking worse than she had in days.

"Sara…"

"Nick, I'm fine. Just tell me…"

But the phone rang again and Nick knew that he'd missed his opportunity.

Sara cast him a worried look as she answered the phone, managing just a few words to the person on the other end before hanging up.

"I need to get dressed," was all she said to him on her way back to the bedroom.

She was back sooner than he'd expected and out the door, leaving him to follow in a kind of stunned silence. Sara didn't even ask who was driving, just got into the passenger's side of Nick's jeep and waited on him.

"Sara," Nick asked halfway through the trip, "what is going on?"

"Not now."

"Yes," Nick countered. "You've been completely on edge for the past few weeks; Greg's not acting right…"

"Stop," she said sharply. "Don't…"

Sara turned away and pressed her lips together tightly, cutting off her own words.

"I'm worried about you both," Nick continued.

"Well don't," she said rather harshly. "It's not the time. Charlie's in the hospital. He's the one we should worry about."

"He had a vest on," Nick assured her. "Brass told me it was likely just a concussion from hitting the ground."

Sara nodded in relief, but didn't seem willing to pick up where they'd left off.

The drove on in icy silence for several minutes more before Nick finally spoke again.

"Is this about Ortega still?"

"No," Sara said half-heartedly. "Not really."

"What is it then?"

Sara sighed and shook her head.

"We want to adopt," she said rather unevenly.

Nick didn't know what to say; he had no idea.

"A lot of people who do adopt start off as foster parents," Sara continued, looking straight ahead and avoiding his gaze. "So, we've been doing everything we can. It's why we took different shifts; why we rushed the wedding a bit. It's really…"

Sara choked on her words, but tried not to show it.

"It's important to us," she continued after a minute, "but the qualifications are… tough. You'd think since we both work for the county…"

Sara trailed off with a slow shake of her head.

"I got the call today saying they'd denied our application again. I don't know how I'm going to tell Greg."

"Is it because…" Nick started to ask, but couldn't bring himself to finish.

"Not really," Sara said with a nervous laugh. "It doesn't help, but Dr. Jennings wrote a letter of recommendation. A really nice one. It was the cancer. He hasn't been in remission long enough; they want at least five years."

"Sara, I'm…"

She just waved him off, shaking her head vigorously.

"Just don't say anything to him," Sara said. "Please."

"Of course not," Nick said automatically.

"And, so you know, the whole thing with Ortega," she continued. "It's not that he's mad at you. Really, he's not. It's just, how she pled…He's already down on himself as it is. And her claiming bipolar of all things just makes him think that people see him like they see her."

"No one does," Nick argued.

"I know," Sara said with a dry laugh, "but try telling Greg that."

Nick nodded, finally understanding.

"This past year hasn't been easy," Sara finished with a shrug. "For anyone."

XXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXXX

The lab was once more in chaos.

Sara and Nick arrived midway through yet another meeting about the kidnappings, this time headed by Ecklie.

All Sara wanted to do was go straight to Greg and throw her arms around him, but it was hardly the time for that.

He looked shaken.

"Have we found out where the finger was obtained from yet?" Ecklie asked the room of investigators.

"Got a probable lead," Warrick answered. "City morgue in Pahrump got a Jane Doe with a missing index finger two days ago. They're sending the body ASAP so that we can get a DNA match and possibly ID her."

"How'd she die?" Grissom asked.

"Gunshot to the back of the head," Warrick confirmed. "They're sending over everything they've got evidence wise, but it isn't much apart from the body."

A tap at the door welcomed Brass to the room.

"How's Sullivan doing?" Ecklie asked as the door was shut.

"Fine," he said with a crisp nod. "Broken arm, but otherwise okay. They're releasing him in a few hours. Can I borrow Catherine and Greg for a few minutes?"

Ecklie nodded shortly, having expected as much. Greg and Catherine had just time enough to exchange tense looks before following the detective out of the room and to her office.

"How did we get our wires crossed on this?" Brass asked bluntly as soon as the door shut on the three of them.

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I got the assignment rip just before shift change and nothing more."

"When was that?" Brass asked, flipping open his notebook.

"Just before three."

"When did you and McNair take off?" he asked Greg now.

"At the latest it was three-thirty," Greg said, digging his fingers into the palms of his hands in an effort to stop them from shaking.

"Did he make any calls? Anything odd?"

"No, no calls. But he was texting someone on the way. He's always on that stupid thing."

"You okay?" Catherine asked Greg, reaching up and grabbing hold of his arm.

Greg just shook his head and turned away from both of them.

"I froze out there," he said loudly, his back to them both. "I didn't do anything. I had my gun and I couldn't even…"

"It happens," Brass said evenly.

"If I'd just reacted…"

"There wasn't time," Brass cut him off, making the younger man face him. "No one got their gun out. Not you, not Charlie, not McNair. No one."

"Yeah but if I'd had enough sense to get down myself Charlie wouldn't have been shot."

"I'm not so sure about that," Brass countered.

"What do you mean?" Catherine asked.

Brass looked for a minute as if he was considering whether or not to tell them, but finally decided he had to.

"Four shots were fired," Brass explained. "We recovered them all. The first one was high; the second broke Charlie's right arm. Numbers three and four, square in his chest."

"I don't understand," Catherine said.

"Neither do I," Greg echoed.

"Let's just say I don't think it was an accident that you ended up at the location of the drop."

"Wait a minute," Catherine said, not at all liking what was being implied. "I sent him there."

"Which was written on the board," Brass said, "for anyone to see. When did you write it up?"

"Before shift change, about ten to three."

Brass nodded.

"We got our call from the kidnappers just after three, giving us just enough time to secure the site…"

"But not enough time to check if it was already a crime scene," Catherine finished. "So there really is someone in this lab in on it. I didn't want to believe it…"

"There's more to it than that," Brass said casting a dark look towards Greg. "Those first shots, if they'd have found their mark, would have killed you."

XXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXXX

It didn't take long for Sara to track him down after the meeting finally let out. Catherine had come back in without Greg half an hour after they'd left, but offered up no reason for his absence.

One look was all it took to convince her that something was seriously wrong.

"I knew I'd find you up here," Sara said as she sat down next to him on the roof.

"I just needed some time to think."

"You need some sleep," she returned.

Greg just shrugged; he was tired past the point of sleeping.

"What's going on?" she asked; Greg never could hide anything from her.

"It's all just such a mess," he said vaguely. "I should have never been out there today. Charlie… he saved my life but I could have gotten him killed."

Sara looked at him confused, but Greg wasn't done yet.

"I know my own limits and I didn't say anything today. I never say anything. I'm just so worried I'm going to disappoint… I don't want to let anyone down, so how can I say no? I can't, right? There's too much to lose."

Greg just stopped, shaking his head as if he was lost.

Sara didn't know how to respond other than wrapping an arm around his waist; pulling him closer as if afraid he'd slip away from her.

Looking up, she abruptly met his gaze. Staring hard at her as if he was the one afraid she'd slip away.

"Tell me I'm being paranoid," he said with such determination, it was hard for her not to be shocked. "Tell me I'm imagining things or that I'm crazy. Please."

"Greg…"

"Brass thinks that today was a set up; that they were trying to kill me. He doesn't know how but he's working out the why. That all of this is somehow connected to me."

Sara was dumbstruck at the news.

"And I believe him," Greg continued. "Something is off about this. It's not normal and it's not right. I don't want to think this way, but I can't help it. So please, tell me I'm wrong."

"Greg…"

But there was nothing more she could say.


	11. Among Us

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes:** Thank you Tripp3235 and RivenSky for helping me out so much with this monster!

**Chapter 11: Among Us**

Amy ran as fast as she could down the hallway, which given her state wasn't very. Still, what she had was important enough to forgo prudence. She had to find Grissom.

She hadn't seen nearly anyone all night. Amy knew about the shooting, that Charlie was alright and that Greg had gone home, but not much more. She'd had a job to do.

That being done, it was her first priority to relay the news.

"Finally," she panted as she found Grissom in the spare layout room talking with a very harried looking Sara.

Both of them looked up, startled by the interruption.

"Sorry," she offered, nearly out of breath, "but I think I've got something. Well, I know I've got something. Big. I hope it's big at least. I nearly killed myself rounding that last corner."

"DNA back on the Jane Doe?" Grissom guessed.

"Yes," Amy smiled, clutching the stitch in her side.

"Did it match in CODIS?" Sara asked this time.

"Better," Amy returned. "It matched here, for the case. It's Bonnie Watts. From the first scene, the woman we couldn't find. It's her. I even got a picture from her service record and there's no doubt. Okay, there's a little doubt because of the whole gunshot thing, but our Jane resembles her."

"Good job," Grissom said with a rare smile, "I'll call Brass and let him know. Sara, we'll talk later."

She nodded with a slight frown as he left the room, leaving the two women alone.

"Everything okay?" Amy asked, finally catching her breath.

Sara nodded, leaving Amy unconvinced.

Before Amy could say as much, they both caught sight of Charlie rushing down the hall.

Amy and Sara both exchanged perplexed looks before leaving the room and chasing after him.

"Hey," Amy said once they caught him at the A/V lab, "aren't you supposed to at least take the night off after getting shot?"

"This?" Charlie said in attempt to shrug them off. "This is nothing."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Amy said sarcastically. "The cast threw me off there."

"Its fine," Charlie assured her. "It was a clean break, the docs gave me the go-ahead and I'm left handed anyway so no big deal. I can rest later."

"All men are like this," Amy said turning to Sara for confirmation.

"Says the woman who wants to have a completely natural childbirth," Charlie shot back, but not unkindly.

"Really?" Sara asked, surprised by this news.

"The drugs can slow down labor," Amy said firmly.

"You say that now…" Charlie chided her.

"Don't start. You and Nick are just alike with that, but I know myself…"

Amy stopped mid-sentence, grabbing her side and reaching for the wall for support.

"Are you okay?" Sara asked, taking hold of her arm.

"Just another Braxton Hicks," Amy said after a pause. "I've been having them on and off all day."

"Shouldn't you get that checked out?" Charlie asked sounding worried.

"No," Amy said waving him off. "It's fine. It's gone now. Lots of women get them in their third trimester. False contractions, nothing serious. I should just probably sit down. But don't try and change the subject, what are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for Archie," he answered, still looking at Amy with concern. "I need to see that video again. Allison Whittington's statement doesn't exactly match what we saw on that tape."

"She's eight," Sara offered as a reasonable explanation.

"Yeah," Charlie agreed, "but I'd rather see it again. Just to be sure."

Sara saw that look in his eye, the one that said that he was on to something. But not just that, Charlie's coloring was off; he was starting to look a little green.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Sara asked him, his only response being a crisp nod.

It was starting to get ridiculous. Everyone was being seriously overtaxed, herself included. At this rate it wasn't a question of someone dropping, just who would be the first.

Sara accompanied Charlie into the lab as Amy decided to go take a well earned break.

"How's Greg doing?" he asked as he took a seat.

"Okay," Sara said, unable to keep the shake entirely out of her voice. "He said you saved him today. I can't begin to …"

"I was just doing my job," Charlie cut her off; red replacing the green hue his features had taken on.

Sara smiled at him, but it was strained.

Neither of them seemed to want to be having this conversation now that it had begun.

"Did, um… did Brass talk to you about this afternoon?" Sara finally had to ask.

"Yeah," Charlie answered, unsure what she could mean. "He kind of had too. I'm fine but the station takes these things really seriously."

"Not about that," Sara prodded, not sure how much she should say.

"About the case? Well, I was back in time to witness the interview with Allison Whittington and her family, but no. Why? Has there been a new development?"

"No," Sara said quickly. "I just thought he might have found something."

Charlie shook his head and luckily for Sara, Archie joined them at that moment.

"Wow," Archie said with an easy smile, "nothing keeps you out of here."

"Not today," Charlie replied good-naturedly. "I was hoping you could run that ransom tape for me again. Sara, could you stick around? I think your eyes on this would be better than mine."

Sara, who hadn't planned on leaving, was a bit taken back by his request but agreed to it.

"What do you want to see?" Archie asked, shutting the door before he queued up the video.

"For now just the part with Allison in it."

"Done," Archie said, as the monitor displayed the scene.

"Pause it please."

"Want to tell me what I'm looking for?" Sara asked him.

"Just something off," Charlie said vaguely.

The room, as they'd all seen before, was very plain. Nothing remarkable or unique about it. Nothing that could be termed 'off' either.

"Allison said in her interview that it was cold," Charlie said talking out loud to himself. "Cold and loud."

"Loud?" Sara echoed.

Charlie nodded, peering closer to the screen.

"And she could hear them coming for her."

"Hear them how?" Sara asked.

But Charlie had no answer for her; Allison couldn't explain it better.

"What's that?" he asked suddenly, pointing to the far corner of the screen. "Can you enlarge that?"

"Give me a second," Archie answered, capturing the imaging and zooming in. "Let me just clean it up and voila."

"Looks like rocks," Sara said, leaning in to the monitor.

"Rocks," Charlie said, still mulling it over. "Could have kicked them inside, right?"

"Yeah," Sara agreed. "But that floor. Look at it, I didn't notice it before but look at it."

"Dirty," Charlie agreed.

"I'm thinking it is dirt," Sara countered.

"Hey guys," Archie interrupted, viewing his own monitor which showed the whole image still. "Look at this."

He quickly brought up another section for them, the top left corner.

"Is that a backdrop?" he asked them both.

Charlie and Sara looked first at him and then to each other; it was hard not to smile.

XXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXXX

"We know where they got the finger," Grissom summarized for the group. "We can assume from the video and the sulfur found on the stun gun that they are keeping the hostages in some type of cave or mine. And we can also assume that this place is within an hour's drive of Vegas. What else?"

It was just past midnight and the world felt like it was on hold. Grissom and Catherine had requested for them to be there, but Brass seemed to be the one really in charge. He wanted only the investigators, himself and Charlie to attend.

"Bonnie Watts," Nick said. "Had to be involved. Had to. Maybe not willingly, but she knew the people in on this. Her DNA was at the first scene, her finger at the third. Maybe she was killed because she didn't like what was happening or got cold feet, but my guess is she was the one in charge of staking out that school."

Grissom nodded in agreement. It was a logical conclusion.

"Then how are all of these crimes connected?" Catherine asked, turning to Warrick.

"The million dollar question," he answered with a smile. "Sara found something interesting earlier, a payment from Mr. Devlon to Mrs. Davies. I did a little research today and found out that the current Mrs. Davies is the former Mrs. Devlon."

"That connects Michael Davies and Nikki Devlon," Sara agreed, "but what about the Whittington's?"

"Councilwoman Whittington helped Darryl Devlon rezone a few areas allowing him to open up a new casino. That process normally takes at least a year; she got it done for him in under three months."

"So Devlon's our guy?" Brass asked.

"I'm not sure," Warrick returned. "He knows or knows of all three victims, but why? He's got money. Got an ironclad pre-nup with wife number two. There's no motive."

"And the prisoners they wanted released?" Grissom asked.

"The only common thread between them is that they were already scheduled for parole," Greg answered, having come back in specifically for this meeting against Sara's wishes. "Whoever is behind this wanted to make it as easy as possible for their demands to be met."

"And they're getting what they want," Brass said stiffly. "State's releasing Carole Toselli tomorrow morning, two weeks ahead of schedule. Are you ready for this?"

Nick and Warrick exchanged troubled glances, as they seemed to be the only ones not in on what Brass was saying. And why he was saying it to Greg.

"As ready as I'm going to get," Greg answered evenly.

"What's going on?" Nick asked.

"It's complicated," Brass replied.

"Try me," Warrick returned, not liking the sudden veil of secrecy around this thing.

"Circumstances around what happened today make us think that maybe these guys are gunning for someone in this lab," Catherine answered with a heavy sigh.

Nick looked first to Greg and then to Sara. Greg was unreadable, stoic beyond anything he'd seen from him before. Sara just looked pissed.

"What circumstances?" Warrick asked, sounding equal parts concerned and confused.

"Timing," Grissom answered, having been fully briefed on it before hand. "The timing of the calls, the assignments, the drop off location; it's all suspect."

"So the leak is in the lab," Nick said slowly.

"This is no leak," Brass argued. "It's a mole. Someone in this lab is in on this thing and is out for either Greg or Charlie."

"Or McNair," Warrick added, but Brass was already shaking his head.

"McNair wasn't fired on. Not even close."

"So, wait, the plan is to what? Set them up? Send Greg and Charlie to a scene and wait and see what happens?" Nick asked in disbelief.

At that point, Sara had had it. She got up without another word and left the room. Greg hesitated only a split second before following her. No one tried to stop either of them.

"It's the only lead we have," Brass replied.

"It's a bad idea," Warrick argued. "They could be killed."

"I volunteered for this," Charlie said firmly. "I know the risks. I'm okay with it."

"And Greg?" Nick asked, looking first to Grissom and then to Catherine.

"He agreed to it too," Catherine said with a short nod.

"They'll be protected," Brass said, for the first time sounding not quite so certain. "They'll both be wearing vests tomorrow. The scene will be a decoy, secured; we'll have snipers set up in advanced."

Silence filled the room.

"We know their approach now," Brass continued. "It'll be controlled."


	12. Frustration

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Chapter 12: Frustration**

"Sara," Greg called out to her just as she made her way outside. "Wait. Please, wait."

"I don't want to talk about it," she said over her shoulder, walking out towards nowhere.

"Come on," he said, catching hold of her arm and turning her towards him.

"What?" she asked. "Am I supposed to be happy about this?"

"No, but…"

"But what?" she interrupted loudly. "What? This is crazy. This whole plan is crazy. We have no idea what these people really want. It's just a guess, all of it."

"All we do is guess."

"Educated guesses," she argued. "Based on evidence, real evidence."

"We don't have any evidence, Sara."

"Which makes it not just crazy but stupid, too. And dangerous. Greg, they can't protect you. They can't."

"I'm only doing what…"

"You don't have to do this."

"What would you do? Ask yourself that. In my position, what would you do?"

Sara stopped, knowing what he was getting at. The trap he was setting. Greg, with a sometimes too perfect memory, was trying to compare this with her agreeing to be a decoy in the Strip Strangler case years back.

"That was a completely different situation."

"How?"

"Well, for starters, no one ever guessed I was an actual target. He was never after me specifically. And the guy didn't shoot people from the street, he abducted them. An abduction can be stopped. You can't stop a gun."

"I'll be wearing a vest."

"And if you get shot in the head?" Sara asked.

Greg looked down, hands on hips and shook his head.

"I'll be fine," he said with confidence.

"You'll be dead."

"Sara…"

"No," she cut in sharply. "No, don't try to reason with me, or make me understand, or anything. Because I don't. I don't know why you're doing this. I don't know why you think you have to do this. And, you know, in the very least, you could have asked me what I thought. What I felt. Damn it, Greg, I'm your wife. Did you even consider…"

Sara stopped, unable to finish as she turned away from him and ran her hands roughly across her eyes. Trying hard not fight it down, to not cry. But it wasn't easy.

"I'm…Sara…"

Greg couldn't find any words for it. For how bad he felt.

"I didn't think," he said, hesitantly placing his hands on her shoulders; relieved she didn't just shrug him off. "I'm sorry. I am."

"But you're not changing your mind," she said, still looking away.

"I…"

"Guys," Tess called from the front steps.

Only Greg turned to look; Sara just hung her head and took a deep breath to compose herself.

"Sorry," Tess said, hating to interrupt them, "but, um, Sara… we need to get to a double homicide in North Vegas. Whenever you're ready, I'll be inside."

Greg watched Tess go before turning back to her; relieved she was at least facing him again.

"I've got to go," Sara said abruptly, unmoving.

Greg nodded sheepishly.

"Can we…"

"There's nothing to talk about," Sara finished, pushing past him and hurrying inside.

Greg waited a few minutes, trying to cool off, before reluctantly following suit.

He had no wish to run into her again just yet. Knew that she needed time and space, but this was hardly done.

And yes, he'd screwed up.

Big.

He could only hope now that Sara could forgive him and try to understand why.

Taking his time, Greg went to the locker room without any real reason. He wasn't ready to go home but was in no shape to work. And, if everything went as Brass expected it to, Greg was going to have to be back at the lab by noon to prepare for his and Charlie's fake scene.

It was almost too much to take in.

Greg had just sat down when the door banged open and Nick came in, if anything, looking almost as angry as Sara had.

"What in the hell, man?"

"Not you too," Greg just muttered into his hands as he slowly shook his head.

"Do you know how stupid this whole thing is? How serious?"

"Trust me," Greg said, getting back to his feet. "I've been told."

"Then why are you doing it? You could get killed."

"Yeah, well," Greg returned lamely, "I could get killed crossing the street just as easy."

"But this is like jumping in front of a bus," Nick shot back, still angry.

"Nick," Greg said as calmly as he could, "stay out of it. What I do is my concern, not yours."

"I know you're still pissed at me," Nick continued, in no way willing to back down this time. "That's fine. I can handle that. But I can't just stand by and let you do this without saying something. You're still my friend. It's like your self-destructing…"

"Self-destructing?" Greg asked back, no longer calm. "What's that supposed to mean? Is Charlie self-destructing because he agreed to this or is it just me?"

"It's different for Charlie."

"How is it different for him?" Greg asked, angry now as he stepped over to Nick.

"Because he's a cop, Greg," Nick answered. "He's supposed to do this. Its part of his job."

"And it's not part of mine?"

"Not like this," Nick returned, unflinching despite the fact that Greg was practically nose to nose with him.

"So, I'm not supposed to investigate a lead? The only lead we have right now, and I'm just supposed to step away from it and give up because it might be dangerous? Is that it? Because if you have any ideas I'd love to hear them. Really."

"But this is nothing like following a lead, Greg, it's practically suicide."

Nick knew the moment the words left his mouth he'd unintentionally crossed the line. That by saying it he'd practically called Greg suicidal, which wasn't a subject you could talk to him about. Ever. Not since Greg had nearly attempted it two years back.

What Greg's eyes didn't say in reaction, his fist did as it slammed into Nick's jaw.

The next few moments were complete confusion.

Nick, caught completely off guard, had staggered back into the lockers but not for long. Soon he was back, steady on his feet, pushing Greg away from him as hard as he could. Greg was yelling furiously at him, not giving an inch.

The whole room seemed filled with noise, but it was no longer just Greg and Nick.

Charlie was the first one in the room.

Even though he was physically bigger than both men, he still found it difficult to intercede, largely owing to the fact that he only had use of one arm. His effort might have been completely wasted if Warrick had come immediately after and helped out.

Charlie just managed to push Greg far enough away as Warrick grabbed Nick by the shoulders and practically forced him to take a seat on the bench.

"What's going on here?" Charlie asked loudly, still standing between the two of them.

Nick, rubbing his jaw, just shrugged and waved his free hand in Greg's general direction.

For a split second both Charlie and Warrick thought there was going to be trouble again. Greg had never looked angrier, but it passed; quickly passed. And instead of charging Nick, as he'd looked very close to doing, he just threw his hands up and turned to go.

Warrick and Charlie exchanged a look to decide it. Charlie nodded silently and left to go after Greg.

"Watch his right," Nick said as Charlie passed through the door.

Greg wasn't hard to find; he was just sitting in his car with the engine off in the parking garage.

"So, where are we going?" Charlie asked as he slid into the passenger's seat.

Greg chuckled despite himself, but he didn't move. He continued to sit there, staring straight ahead, clutching the wheel so hard his knuckles had gone white.

"Nick okay?" he finally asked after a few minutes of complete silence.

"Please," Charlie said with great exaggeration. "No offense, Greg, but if he'd wanted to, Nick probably could have kicked your ass back there."

"I'd deserve it."

"See, now you're talking like a man who hasn't slept for a week and just volunteered to get shot at."

Greg did laugh this time.

"You're one to talk."

Charlie nodded with an easy smile.

"Well, I can't let you do this thing alone."

"Tell me that's not the only reason you agreed to this," Greg said, finally turning to him with an expression of complete dread.

"No," Charlie answered earnestly. "It's not. I want this thing solved too. These guys caught. I don't like these games their playing. It's… well, you know. It's…"

"Off," Greg agreed.

"Plus, I figured if they really wanted to off me, I'm in the book," Charlie said with a hint of a smirk.

"You think Brass is wrong," Greg said with some surprise.

"No, he's on to something," Charlie countered. "They definitely had it in for you and they definitely went out of their way to avoid McNair."

"What about you?" Greg asked.

"I was wearing a vest," Charlie returned. "Plain as day, right on top of my shirt. Those things don't exactly blend in."

Greg nodded slowly having not really considered that before.

"Truthfully," Charlie continued, "I don't think we'll run into them again. The only consistent thing about this mess is its inconsistency."

Greg couldn't help but agree with that.

"So," he said hesitantly, "what does Matt think?"

"That I'm crazy," Charlie said with a sad kind of laugh, "but he's used to it. Sara?"

"She's mad," Greg admitted. "Really mad. I kind of forgot to include her in the decision."

"Kind of?"

"Kind of on purpose," Greg sighed. "I knew she wasn't going to be happy with it but I thought she'd understand. It's like lately, with work and with my life, I'm trying so hard to please everyone…"

"That no one's happy," Charlie finished. "I've been there. It'll tear you apart. Trust me."

"It's just frustrating."

"Greg, if you're not happy…"

"I am," he said a bit too quickly. "I mean, I will be. It's… I want this promotion. I really want this. And it's like, everything I want…something always happens."

Charlie gave him a hard, scrutinizing look, wishing he could make sense of it.

"Forget it," Greg said, looking over and catching Charlie's gaze. "I probably just need some real sleep. Or a vacation. Probably a long vacation."

Charlie smiled and let it pass, but wouldn't forget.

"You ready to go back in and make nice?" he asked.

"With Nick? I don't know."

"Like ripping off a band-aid. You need to get it over with. Clear the air so to speak."

"Tomorrow," Greg said with a firm nod.

"Greg," Charlie returned sounding slightly exasperated.

"Tomorrow," he repeated just as firmly. "When I'm more myself. I promise. It'll be the first thing I do."


	13. Conversations

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Chapter 13: Conversations**

It took a considerable amount of time for Nick to calm down. He spent the remainder of the night nearly silent. Warrick had tried to ask him what had happened but he just wasn't going to talk about it.

He didn't know what to do about any of it.

Yes, he'd provoked Greg but it had been unintentional. Nick had been angry at Greg's apparent recklessness. He never meant to imply more.

Never.

The worst of it was they had finally begun to regain some ground and now this. Part of him wanted to give up entirely, but giving up wasn't in his character. Especially giving up on a friend.

Nick just really didn't know what to do.

"Hey," Amy said cheerfully as he made his way into their home. "Long night?"

"I thought you'd be asleep," he returned, coming over to her and kissing her once on the cheek.

"I couldn't," Amy sighed. "Stupid heartburn. Plus, the baby is kicking like crazy."

Nick just nodded absently as he sat down in the nearest armchair.

"What's wrong?" she asked, brow furrowed.

"It was just a really long night."

Amy nodded but then gave him a suspicious look.

"Is that… is that bruise?" she asked suddenly, getting up and examining him closer. "It is. What happened? It wasn't on a scene, was it?"

"No," Nick assured her, knowing she was still freaked out about Charlie getting shot. Thankful that she didn't know what both Charlie and Greg were getting themselves into. Ecklie had insisted it go no further, not even to the techs assigned the case. "It's fine. I just…"

"You just what? Ran your face into a wall?"

Nick laughed; his first real laugh in what felt like a very long time.

"No, nothing like that. It's fine, really. Greg and I had a misunderstanding."

Amy's eyes went wide in surprise.

"Greg hit you?"

Nick got up and headed for the kitchen, Amy right behind him.

"It's nothing," he said as he opened the refrigerator looking for anything that might pass as breakfast.

"But, why? I thought you two were getting along again. I thought…"

Nick looked at Amy who was all confusion. He knew it hadn't been easy for her with him and Greg fighting.

"Truthfully, I probably owe him an apology. I said some things…"

"But he hit you? Nick, that's not right."

Nick tried his best to shrug it off, but couldn't help feeling a little good about Amy taking his side in this. He knew very well she'd agreed completely with Greg over the Ortega debacle, but hadn't argued it. Well, hadn't argued it long.

"He's under a lot of stress right now."

"So is everyone, but you don't see me taking a swing at Wendy, right?"

"I didn't know you had a problem with Wendy," Nick returned.

"I think she wants my job," Amy said a matter-of-factly. "But that's not the point. I'm worried about him. And I know Sara is. And so are you. Shouldn't we say something? Do something? I mean, I'm not the only one seeing it, right?"

Nick didn't know how to agree with her and couldn't really disagree.

"Amy, I really think we need to just leave him alone," Nick finally said. "I'd help if I thought I could, but…"

Nick couldn't finish without betraying Sara's confidence in him. He knew she'd only told him because she'd been upset and didn't want to disappoint her trust. Not even to Amy.

"Sometimes there isn't anything you can do," he finished.

XXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXXX

Greg hadn't slept at all that night. He just couldn't. Not until he'd put things straight between himself and Sara.

When she got home things were tense.

She dropped her keys on the counter and joined him, wordlessly, on the couch.

"I should have at least asked how you felt," Greg said softly.

"You're only doing what you think is right," she returned in a near whisper. "I'd probably do the same."

"That's no excuse, though," he said plaintively. "You're right. We're married now and it's different. I'm still getting used to thinking as an 'us' instead of a 'me'."

"I just wish you'd see that you didn't have to do this," she returned, sounding just as sad.

"And I wish you could understand why I think I do."

Sara nodded and thought she did understand, in part.

"Is it just because of the promotion?" Sara asked bluntly.

"No," he returned. "I mean, yes it is in a way, but also… I don't know. I just think I have to do it. I have to face this thing head on. Solve it, figure it out. Do something."

"Greg…"

"I know what it sounds like," he countered before she could finish the thought. "I do. And, I don't know what to tell you. I'm on my meds. You know that. Dr. Jennings doesn't think there's…"

"You haven't seen her in two weeks; she couldn't know."

"Do you want me to?" he asked. "Do you want me to call her? I will, Sara, if that's what you think I need to do."

"Don't start…"

"I'm not trying to start a fight, I'm being serious. I'll call her now if you think I should."

Sara stared at him, uncertain what to do or say next. It was hard to deal with him at times; hard to know how to deal with him. If everything really was alright, likely he was being serious; that he was just wanting her advice. And if he wasn't… well, she'd rather take the chance than not.

"When's your next appointment?" she asked.

"Day after tomorrow," he answered, still sounding compliant.

Sara nodded and almost longed for the days when he went twice a week. Over the past few months Dr. Jennings had scaled them back because Greg had been doing so well. He now only saw here twice a month. Sometimes, like now, Sara felt it was a mistake.

"I will call," he tried to reassure her, sensing her unease. "Sara, it's not a big deal to me."

"Okay," she said, still nodding and feeling relieved.

"Okay," he echoed, getting to his feet and heading for the kitchen.

"Wait," Sara said, following him. "There's something else. Something I'd wanted to tell you yesterday, but…"

"What?" he asked.

"It's about our application."

He stood there, facing her fully and unable to ask any more. And really, he didn't need to.

The way she'd said it had told him everything.

XXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXXX

Catherine had never been good at waiting. It was a fault, she knew it. And mostly, it wasn't a problem. It was days like today. Waiting. Just waiting on the word. And Greg.

He was late.

Not so late yet that she needed to call, just a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity was passing.

"He'll be here," Charlie assured her from his chair. "It's probably traffic."

"What if it's not?" she returned, pacing behind her desk.

"Cold feet?"

Catherine shrugged; she'd considered it and really who would blame him. She was honestly terrified of the idea of putting the two of them out there like this, but there was little choice.

And if it wasn't cold feet, it was Sara. It didn't take a genius to see she was against the idea. She might have even talked him out of it. 'More power to her,' Catherine thought idly.

But a minute later removed all doubt of cold feet or interfering spouses as Greg opened the door with an apology on his lips.

"You look terrible," Catherine uttered as he took a seat. "Are you sure…"

"I'm sure," he said before she could finish asking. "I just… I didn't get a lot of sleep."

Catherine looked uneasy, but didn't argue, turning her attention to Charlie.

"Don't look at me, I slept like a baby. Pain meds are a wonderful thing."

"Are you both certain…"

"Catherine, stop asking," Greg implored her. "I'm fine, he's fine… let's just get this over with. Where are we going?"

"Okay, okay," she said hastily. "It's set. Gas station on Cheyenne. Brass is there with his guys, they're just waiting on me to give the word."

Neither man said anything, just nodded and continued to look grave.

"So," Catherine said, walking to the door and opening it, "get going and good luck."

"Thanks," Charlie uttered, but Greg remained quiet.

They headed quickly down the hallway to the locker room together, just catching Catherine as she went to write it up on the board.

"I figured we'd ride together," Charlie said as Greg opened his locker to retrieve his things. "I've got a vest for you in my car."

"Vest?" they heard an unexpected voice echo. "That must be some scene."

Greg looked over at Sofia and wondered if she knew. She was the day shift supervisor now; she might be in on the operation or she might not. They were given strict orders to discuss it with no one.

"Well," Charlie said easily, "it's just a robbery up north, but I'm not taking any chances."

Sofia looked momentarily suspicious, but let it go with a quick nod.

"I'm glad you're not letting him either," was all she returned before heading back out the door.

"Does she…" Greg started to ask.

But Charlie was already shaking his head and shrugging; he didn't know either.

"Let's just go," Greg sighed, not wanting to have to lie to get around this thing.

But getting out of the lab with few questions was proving difficult.

Kevin, fresh from checking out the assignment board, came charging up to the both of them looking angry.

"How come you're getting called in for cases and I'm not?" he asked point blank.

"It's a robbery at a gas station," Greg returned, not wanting to do this now. "It's not like Catherine set me up with the Brinks heist or anything."

"Doesn't matter," Kevin said, hands on hips as he continued to block their progress. "I want to come along."

"You can't," Greg said firmly.

"Of course I can," he shot back. "I'm just as entitled to this case as you are…"

"But you weren't assigned it," Greg cut off, growing irritated. "So, either get out of my way…"

"Or what?"

"Okay," Charlie said, stepping between them before things got out of hand. "That's just about enough. We don't have time to waste here. It sounds to me like you've got a problem for your supervisor…"

"Stay out of this," Kevin said dismissively, "this is between me and your boyfriend."

Greg didn't know what to expect to happen next, it certainly hadn't been for Charlie to laugh. Granted it wasn't a normal laugh, it wasn't an easy laugh, it was hard.

"You think that's cute?" Charlie asked him, stepping closer to Kevin and staring down at him with an odd smile on his face.

"Back up off me or I'll…"

"You'll what?" Charlie asked, deadly serious and not giving an inch.

Kevin just stood there, speechless.

"That's what I thought," Charlie said after a heavy pause.

For a minute the three of them stood there, deadly silent. Greg looked nervously from Charlie to Kevin, certain that at any time Charlie was going to rip his head off. Not entirely sure if he'd even try to stop him.

"Let's go," Charlie finally said, moving down the hall without so much as a backwards glance. "We don't have time for this."


	14. Close

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes:** Thank you Tripp3235 and RivenSky!

**Chapter 14: Close**

For nearly two hours they sat around a deserted gas station with nothing to do and nothing to say. Charlie was in a rare bad mood, brought on no doubt by his encounter with Kevin. Greg didn't mind, he didn't want to talk either. He knew his life was in a sad state when setting himself up as a target was the highlight of his day.

Finally Charlie's radio beeped.

"Sullivan," he said into it, peering around the road just in case.

"Got a 911 call three blocks from you," Brass's voice called out. "It's Davies. Said he'd been just been dropped off and was told to call."

"Son of a bitch," Charlie said to himself, before keying the mic and confirming with Brass that they'd be on their way.

Greg and Charlie got back into the squad car and were at the location within moments. Michael Davies was just sitting there waiting on the side of the road next to the phone booth. He even waved them down.

"You alright, sir?" Charlie asked as he hopped out of the car.

"Fine, fine," he said, but sounded shaken none the less. "Glad to see you."

Charlie smiled his first genuine smile in hours.

"I'm Detective Sullivan; this is Mr. Sanders with the crime lab. He's going to want to process you while I ask some questions. That okay, sir?"

"That's alright," the man answered, "but I'm not sure what there is to process."

"I'm just looking for hair, fibers," Greg explained, giving him a cursory glance. "Anything we might be able to use to get a DNA match. It'll help with the trial."

Michael Davies nodded in understanding.

"I'll help anyway I can," he said firmly. "Although, aside from scaring me half to death, they didn't treat me bad. Never threatened me, never hit me or anything like."

Charlie nodded and turned on his tape recorder. He couldn't exactly take notes with one hand.

"Did you recognize any of them? Know their voices?"

"No," Mr. Davies said solemnly. "No one I could place."

Greg was already at work, checking the man's shoes as unobtrusively as possible. Charlie got back briefly on the radio and asked where Brass was with back-up and an ambulance.

"An ambulance really isn't necessary," Mr. Davies interjected.

"Procedure," Charlie returned apologetically. "Sorry. Did you know where you were being held?"

"No, they had me blindfolded most of the time."

"Was there anyone else with you?"

The older man shook his head again.

"Was anything said to you at all?"

"Not much," he answered. "Mostly, they just dropped off meals and such. Didn't talk much until today and then it was just, 'time to go'."

"How many were there?"

"Two," Mr. Davies answered after some hesitation. "At least two. There might have been more, but I couldn't be sure."

"Male? Female?"

"One of each."

Charlie nodded and looked around as the rest of the task force arrived.

"How did you get here today?" Charlie asked. "Did they drop you off?"

"Yes," he nodded vigorously, "in that van over there."

As Mr. Davies pointed across the street, Greg and Charlie both looked as well; dumbstruck.

Across the street where Mr. Davies was now pointing was the very same black van that had nearly killed them both less than forty-eight hours ago.

"It's empty," Mr. Davies assured them. "They stopped the engine, told me to count to a hundred and then cross the street and call 911. I did just that."

"Was there another car?"

"I heard one take off not long after they slammed the doors shut," Mr. Davies answered with another nod.

"What's happening?" Brass asked as he joined them.

"Mr. Davies' tells us that he was brought here in that," Charlie answered, indicating the vehicle across the street.

"Let's go check it out then," Brass said crisply as he took out his gun.

Charlie followed suit and just before Greg could move Brass waved him off.

"Just us right now," he said forcefully.

Greg nodded and watched uneasily as the two men approached the van.

It didn't take long for them to clear it, the van was unoccupied.

"Alright Sanders," Brass called out as they headed back, "it's all yours. What do you want to do?"

"Tow it back to the lab," Greg answered confidently. "I'm not the only one who is going to want to take a look at this."

XXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXXX

Greg and Warrick had been combing through the van for nearly an hour when the door opened and Nick joined them.

"What have you got?" he asked both men, trying to sound as if yesterday hadn't happened.

"Not much," Warrick answered before Greg had the chance. "We've just about finished with the interior. Found some fibers, but not much. This thing was cleaned out good."

"Need a hand?" he offered.

"Yeah," Warrick returned. "We haven't checked out the undercarriage yet."

Nick nodded and Greg remained silent despite Warrick giving him an intense gaze.

"I'm going to take this up to trace," Warrick said with too much affected indifference. "Shouldn't take long."

Greg and Nick both watched him go and with him any ease the room might have contained.

"I'll just get started," Nick said as he pulled on a pair of coveralls over his clothes.

Greg looked up briefly and knew he should say something but couldn't do it.

"So," Nick called out from under the van, "I take it everything went down smoothly."

"Yeah," Greg returned automatically. "No problem at all."

"Good."

"Where was Mr. Davies dropped off?"

"About three blocks from us."

"So," Nick concluded, "someone here could have tipped them off."

"That's the theory," Greg returned, hating the small talk.

He really did want to apologize, but didn't know how. It was such an awkward business.

Neither man unable to think of anything else to talk about caused the silence to drag out.

Finally, Greg had to speak.

"Nick," he started. "I'm sorry about yesterday."

"Greg…"

"No," he interrupted. "Hear me out. I was wrong to hit you and to get so mad over nothing, I just…"

"Greg…"

"No, I was. I've got a lot going on right now…"

"Greg," Nick practically yelled. "Get out of the van."

Greg paused, unable to place the exact tone of Nick's voice; only knowing it was unnerving.

"Nick what's…"

"Get out of the van and get out of the garage, Greg. Now."

Greg headed out of the vehicle without another word but refused to completely follow Nick's orders.

Nick was soon standing beside him looking at the van with something paramount to terror on his face.

"There's a bomb," he said as evenly as he could.

For a moment all Greg could do was stare.

"On the van?"

Nick actually did a double take before nodding vigorously, yes, on the van.

"What… what do we do?" Greg asked, automatically deferring to Nick's experience in this matter.

"We've got about ten minutes left if the timer is right," Nick said, still calm. "Pull the fire alarm and then check the halls. Make sure no one comes this way. I'll call dispatch."

Greg nodded, but felt queasy.

"Now," Nick said forcefully as he practically pushed Greg out of the room.

Greg did just as he'd been told. The nearest alarm was just down the hall. After having successfully triggered it, he ran. Ran up and down the halls as fast as he could, urging people loudly to leave the building. Assuring them it wasn't just another drill and that they had to go. Anyone who stopped long enough to ask was told there was a fire in the garage, that is, until he came to Grissom.

"Greg what's…"

"The van was rigged with a bomb," Greg provided bluntly. "There's not a lot of time left. Nick found it. He's on the phone with dispatch now."

Grissom took it all in with good grace, just nodded firmly and told Greg to get outside with everyone else.

"No," Greg said earnestly. "Nick's still back there. I need to let him know everyone is out."

"I'll take care of that."

"I can't…"

"Greg," Grissom cut in sharply, but it was too late.

The explosion wasn't as big as he'd expected, but it was certainly loud. From where they were, Greg and Grissom were both well protected but temporarily stunned.

Greg was the first to react, racing down the halls with Grissom just behind him. Both heedless of the danger and bracing for the aftermath.

The van was a fiery wreck.

The garage itself had suffered heavy damage.

The windows looking in on the area had been completely blasted out.

Otherwise, it could have been much worse.

"Nick," Greg yelled, not seeing him in the immediate vicinity.

"I'm here," he called, coming out from a nearby office with his phone still to his ear. "Can you believe they put me on hold?"

"I'm finding that easier to believe than the fact that you stayed here," Grissom returned angrily.

"It was early," Nick offered up. "Three minutes at least. Everyone alright?"

Greg nodded, confirming that he'd gotten everyone he could out of the way.

"Did we get anything out of this?" Grissom asked after a heavy pause; once more focused on the task at hand.

"Warrick had just left for trace," Greg confirmed.

"Good," he returned. "Nick, I want you checked out by the paramedics. No buts."

Nick nodded, hanging up his phone; dispatch a lost cause.

"You okay?" Greg asked him, really concerned.

"A little ringing in my ears," Nick said, "but yeah. Nothing serious."

Greg whistled as the three of them made their way out, towards the sound of approaching sirens.

"That was close."

"Too close," Nick echoed.

"Good thing you came along," Greg continued, not wanting to think about it, but unable to think about anything else.

"Yeah, well. Thank Warrick. He called me when the van came in. Thought it would be a good time for us to talk things over."

"I think I owe him a drink," Greg laughed uneasily.

"Hey," Nick chided. "I found it."

"Well, I know I owe you one," Greg returned, the shake finally leaving his voice.


	15. New Possibilities

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes:** Thank you a thousand times to my betas Tripp3235 and RivenSky! And to everyone reading this and sticking with this. I know this chapter has been a long time coming.

**Chapter 15: New Possibilities**

"Thanks for the lift," Amy said as she buckled herself into the passenger's seat of Sara's car. "Nick went in early to help out with that case and my car is still at the lab."

"It's no problem," Sara assured her.

Sara had volunteered to give Amy a ride into the lab that afternoon, more than eager to get to work and try to put the day's difficulties behind her.

"Did Greg go in too?" Amy asked as casually as she could, not certain if Sara knew all the details surrounding last night.

"Yeah," Sara said, nodding and focusing her attention on the road. "He left around noon. Catherine called about a case."

"How's your sister?" Sara asked, hoping to change the conversation.

"Alright," Amy answered, but sounded less than enthusiastic.

"Greg told me she has a boyfriend."

"Yeah," Amy sighed. "But she's entirely too good for him."

Sara looked at her with something like surprise. She'd never heard Amy sound so mean before.

"That bad?"

"Terrible," Amy continued her rant. "He just, it's hard to say what bothers me so much about him, but it's the way he treats her. The way he talks to her. Seriously, if Nick… well, Nick never would… but I don't know why she puts up with it."

"Have you talked to her about it?"

"I've tried," Amy sighed, "but anything I say just sounds like I'm interfering. And it's not like he's the first jerk she's gone out with. I guess I'm just afraid of doing too much."

"Talking couldn't hurt," Sara provided.

"I suppose," Amy said, "but…"

Amy's voice trailed off as they pulled into the parking lot which was swarming with emergency personnel and vehicles.

Sara parked in the first available spot and jumped out, Amy right behind her; both of them scanning the crowd eagerly.

"What happened?" Sara asked Jacqui.

"A fire, I think," she answered, sounding confused by it all. "That's what Greg told me when the alarms went off."

"Greg?" Sara repeated. "Have you seen him since? Did he get out?"

"Yes, everyone did," Jacqui told her hurriedly. "It couldn't have been too big of one; the firefighters went in and came right back out again."

Sara nodded and thanked her, turning back to Amy who was still searching the scene.

"There they are," Amy said sounding close to hysterics as she rushed off towards where the ambulances had parked.

Warrick saw them coming and nudged Greg, who turned to greet them with a reassuring smile.

"What happened?" Amy asked, pushing her way over to Nick who was sitting on the back of one of the ambulances. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Nick assured her, standing and taking hold of her hands. "Grissom just wanted them to check me over. That's it."

"Why, what.."

As Nick started to explain, Greg made his way over to Sara who was decidedly avoiding his gaze.

Greg didn't ask her what was wrong or why she was upset, or anything just yet. Instead he just put a hand on her back and gently steered her out of the crowd.

As soon as they were relatively alone, Sara let out a sigh of relief and gave him a shaky smile.

"I'm fine," he said.

"You keep saying that," she returned completely unconvinced.

"Not a scratch on me, I promise."

Sara laughed bitterly and fought back the tears. Greg couldn't stand it. He took her quickly into his arms and kissed her forehead softly.

She snaked her arms around his waist and squeezed tightly, but only momentarily. Sara pulled back seemingly relieved and definitely more composed.

"So what did happen?" she asked.

"Found the kidnapper's van. I had it towed back without checking it first and it was rigged. Wasn't a huge explosion but the garage is a mess. I can't believe…"

"We always do that," she interrupted.

"Doesn't matter," he protested. "I should have checked."

Sara shook her head in disbelief.

"Well," he said, "considering… It wasn't exactly smart."

"You weren't trained to check for bombs," she added. "None of us were."

Greg nodded but she could see he wasn't convinced.

"What now?" she asked.

"Grissom and Catherine are talking with Ecklie about what to do next. I think Sofia is going to handle recovery on this. We got some evidence out before it went off, so I think we have a chance of getting something useful."

Just then Warrick called out, catching their attention and waving them over.

Greg and Sara quickly rejoined the group, which now included Grissom and Catherine.

"Good," Grissom said upon seeing them. "I want everyone to go home, get some rest and meet back here at ten o'clock tonight to go over this case."

"But…" Warrick started to say, but was quickly cut off by Catherine.

"Everyone," she stated firmly. "Don't worry about who's covering your shift, it's taken care of."

"Amy," Grissom continued, "that includes you. The other senior techs will be joining us as well, but I want fresh eyes on this. Understood?"

No one opposed the idea; they all needed the break.

* * *

Greg lay back on the bed staring up at the ceiling and unable to sleep. He knew it was the same for Sara. They were both exhausted in every sense of the word; physically, emotionally, mentally. It seemed unending.

"Maybe we should hire a lawyer," he said breaking the steady silence.

Greg waited half a minute before turning towards her; maybe she was asleep after all.

But he found her much as he'd expected, awake and staring at him with a slightly confused look on her face.

"For the case?"

"No," he returned with a near laugh, "for adopting. A lot of people do it. It could help speed things up. Give us a better shot."

Sara sighed as she lay back again.

They hadn't had a lot of time today to talk about it. Having their application to be foster parents denied was a major setback. She was glad Greg was still optimistic, but she couldn't be anymore. If they couldn't be foster parents, it was very unlikely that they could be adoptive parents.

"I'm not sure it would help."

"It couldn't hurt," he returned.

"Financially it could."

"Not necessarily," Greg countered. "We've got enough put away…"

"You have enough put away," Sara interrupted.

"We," Greg said firmly. "And my dad went to college with a guy who's a lawyer…."

"Does he practice family law?"

"No idea," Greg answered. "But he could point us in the right direction."

"I don't know."

"It's worth a shot, right?"

"I guess."

Greg sighed and went back to staring at the ceiling.

"It's just…" Sara started hesitantly. "We have other options. Adoption isn't the only way to go."

"We've already talked about this."

"No," Sara argued. "I talked and you nodded."

"I don't like it."

"There is nothing wrong with artificial insemination."

"I know there's nothing wrong with it…"

"Then why not consider it. We would be able to pick a donor. It would be quicker. It would be a lot less legal hassle. We could do this now. Plus, we'd get to experience the pregnancy. Watch the baby grow. Wouldn't that be worth it?"

"Sara, that's… no I get that it would be… would you want that? I mean, seriously. Think about it. They'd have to harvest your eggs, pump you full of hormones… we could end up with like sextuplets. I want kids, but… And you know, if you ask Amy I'm sure she'll tell you being pregnant isn't all that it's cracked up to be."

"Greg, don't lie," Sara said evenly. "What is really bothering you about this?"

"You really want this?"

"Of course I do, but I also want to know why your dismissing it."

"Because I'm selfish."

"Greg…"

"No," he said quickly. "I am. I just, when I think about it… it's not like we'd be having a baby. You would. With some random guy. And I'd kind of just be there."

"It would be your baby too."

"Legally," he said with a smile; one Sara did not return.

"You know that's not how it would be."

"I'm afraid of feeling that. That I'm going to be resentful or…"

"That's not you."

"Maybe."

"Not maybe," Sara continued. "I know it's not you."

Greg didn't know what to say.

"It might be nice," he finally said after a long pause, "if it can't be a part of me that it could be a part of you. Have your eyes."

Sara smiled at him.

"Let's… okay, let's consider it," he said shakily. "Who would we talk to or…"

"There's a place in town."

"So you've been looking into it?"

"Some," she answered with a nod. "Mostly today."

"Do we schedule an appointment to talk about it or… what?"

"We can do that. This week is… well… not good. I can call them about next week. Is that…"

"That's good," Greg agreed with a quick nod.

Sara nodded in return, smiling tightly as an uneasy tension filled the room.

"You know, if you really aren't okay…" Sara had begun to say before Greg's cell rang.

Greg picked it up and answered as Sara, unable to take lying there much longer, got up and left for the kitchen.

"Sanders, I can't believe you did this to me."

For a moment Greg had no idea who was on the other end.

"Anderson?" he asked, hesitantly.

"Of course it's me," the reporter returned crisply. "You've screwed me, you know that right? Completely. I'm… I'm…."

"What are you talking about?" Greg asked.

"You told them who tipped you off, didn't you? You told them that I called. That I told you about the man on the inside. Do you know what they're going to do to me? They know. I wasn't supposed to say anything, just print the story, and now they know."

"Calm down," Greg said as he got to his feet. "Who? Do you have names?"

"Names? Like I'm going to talk. Are you crazy? I'm already… what am I going to do?"

"Go to the police station," Greg answered. "Now. Just go. If you can tell us anything about what is happening, we can get you protection."

"It's too late for that. I told you, there is someone on the inside working this. Don't you think they could get to me there?"

"You have to trust me."

"I can't trust anyone," Mitch returned. "Not anymore. I didn't think they were that serious. That they were going to do anything… and then the shooting and the bomb… and they killed Bonnie. They're going to kill me too. I didn't realize…"

"How… did you know her?"

"Doesn't matter. I should have never… Forget I called."

"What?" Greg said sharply as Sara came back into the room looking surprised. "I can't…"

"No, you have to. Just… forget okay? And don't tell anyone at the lab. Please. I was trying to do the right thing when I warned you. I really was. I didn't think anyone was going to be hurt… I know I've never given you a reason, but please, you have to do this for me."

"I have to do my job."

"You're job is going to get us both killed," was all he said in return before hanging up.


	16. No Explanation

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes:** Thank you RivenSky, I'm still learning what a comma is all about. Thank you Tripp3235, I'm still writing out my numbers. Thank you readers, for reading this.

**Chapter 16: No Explanation**

"You have to tell someone," Sara said, for what had to have been the hundredth time.

Greg just gave a small shake of his head in return as he parked the car just outside the lab. They'd done nothing but argue about it since he'd told her who had called and what the call had been about. He was sick of arguing. He wasn't going to change his mind.

"I'm serious…"

"Anderson sounded serious, too," he returned, getting out and heading inside.

"Greg," Sara reasoned, getting out after him, "consider who he is. Think about that for a moment. About all the problems this guy has caused you. Can you really believe him?"

"Why would he lie about this?" Greg asked back, stopping just outside the front entrance of the lab. "Why? What can he possibly gain?"

"Your trust," Sara shot back. "He gets you to feel sorry for him and he's got an instant in for this case."

"He already knows about this case. He's already got an in."

"Maybe he did, but when the case got restricted down…"

"No," Greg said, shaking his head. "No, I'm not… you didn't hear him. You didn't… the man is terrified. He really thinks that someone is going to kill him because of this. Because of what he's already told me."

"That's more of a reason to tell. If you believe it, than you'll be protecting him. They can put him under surveillance."

Greg just shook his head looking unconvinced.

"At least tell Grissom," Sara tried.

"I can't…"

"You don't think…"

"Grissom isn't my supervisor anymore. If I'm telling anyone it has to be Catherine."

"But you're not."

Greg looked up at her and shrugged.

"I can't do it. I can't be responsible if… what if he's right? What if there is someone really working this from inside the lab. Not just giving them information, but organizing it. If I say something and it gets back… I can't be responsible for killing someone. Not again."

Sara stared at him thoughtfully for a second and then nodded slightly.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"I'm telling Grissom."

"What?" Greg asked back in complete disbelief.

"You don't want to take responsibility for this, that's fine," she said as she pulled open the door and quickly moved into the lobby, "but Mitch Anderson obviously knows more about these cases than he's let on. He knows who the mole is and he knows why these kidnappings are happening. We talk to him and we can stop this."

"Sara," Greg called out loudly, but she wasn't stopping.

Gretchen, watching from behind her desk, smirked at them both as they rushed past, but Greg only had time to be slightly annoyed.

"Sara, wait!"

"What?" she shot back, angry but finally stopping.

"You can't do this. I… I told you only…"

"Well, Greg, I have to say something. Okay? I can't just… this is too important to…"

"I can't believe you'd do this to me."

Sara looked around her and knew this wasn't the place. There were too many people watching. Too many people listening.

Quick as she could, she dragged him into the nearest empty room.

"I'm doing this for you."

"For me?" he questioned. "You're not doing this for me. I don't want anything said."

"Greg, think, please. You've been shot at and had a van nearly explode while you were inside it. This isn't about money or releasing prisoners. These people are after you, remember? They want to hurt you. This is about you. I can't… I can't sit by when I know… "

"If I'm the one on the line here, let me take… "

"No," she interrupted loudly. "No. I won't let you take that chance. I won't let you do that. I tell Grissom, he calls Brass and we get Anderson in here now. End of story. I'm not letting you martyr yourself because you feel guilty or responsible or whatever. It's not worth it, Greg. It's not."

"A man's life isn't worth it?"

"The only life I'm worried about is yours."

"Sara, nothing…"

"Stop saying that! Just, stop it! You don't know. This is all… Greg, it's all…"

Sara stopped; shaking her head because she couldn't speak. Greg didn't need to hear anymore. Couldn't hear it.

Greg pushed past her and out the door, moving as quick as he could to get away. He couldn't help but remember the last time he'd been this angry with her; what made it worse this time was he knew she was right.

He moved into the break room, glad it was empty, and paced the room twice in an effort to calm himself down. It wasn't working.

"We're not done talking," Sara said from the doorway.

"Yes we are," Greg returned without turning around to face her.

"No, Greg, this isn't… you can't just walk out of a conversation like that."

"Why not?" he asked, spinning round towards the door. "You're just going to do whatever you want anyway. It doesn't matter what I say."

"You are such a hypocrite," Sara shot back. "Yesterday you signed up as a decoy without so much as a word to me."

There wasn't anything he could say to that.

"Greg," Sara continued, much calmer. "I don't understand what is going on with you? You don't seem to care if you get hurt or not. You are working yourself to death to help solve this case, but you won't come forward with information that may break it. Why? What is happening? What could you possibly be thinking and why won't you tell me?"

"Why don't you just ask me?"

"Ask you? I am, I'm asking you right now?"

"Not that," Greg returned bitterly. "Ask about my meds. Why don't you stop dancing around it and ask. Because I know that's what you're thinking. I know it. You think I stopped taking them, don't you? You ask how I'm doing, how I'm feeling. You even asked if I wanted to see Dr. Jennings. Why don't you just ask what you really want to ask?"

Sara was stunned. Absolutely and positively stunned into silence. It hadn't occurred to her that he might not be taking his medication; it really hadn't.

Until now.

"I knew it," he said, his voice starting off as a whisper. "I knew you didn't trust me. Still. You don't…"

"Greg, I trust you. If you say you're taking…"

Sara couldn't even finish. It was a lie and they both knew it.

"Come on," he said with a determined look on his face. "You don't believe me, I'll prove it."

"You don't…"

"Come on," he insisted as he headed out the door.

Sara followed him as quickly as she could, suddenly aware of all the attention they'd gathered.

Greg took her right where she'd expected him too, to the locker room. Opening his locker, he took out the prescription bottle of Elavil and pushed it into her hands.

"Count them."

"Greg, I don't…"

"Count them," he repeated. "There should be fifteen left. Go ahead, count."

Reluctantly Sara did what he asked.

"Fifteen," Greg said. "Just like I said, right?"

Sara said nothing, just shut her eyes tightly and shook her head.

"There's fifteen there," Greg affirmed, but this time with less confidence. "I know there is."

"No, Greg, there's twenty-three," Sara finally said.

"What? No. You must have counted them wrong.

Sara didn't respond, just handed the bottle back and sat down on the bench as Greg counted and recounted the contents for himself.

Finally, Greg seemed to realize the truth.

"Son of a bitch," he shouted suddenly as he threw the bottle against the far wall.

Sara watched in disbelief as Greg paced the room a few times before making his final retreat out the back door.

For a moment she considered going after him, but then thought better of it. He needed time to calm down, to collect himself. She needed a minute herself.

Sara wasn't mad at him, not really. It seemed accidental, and with the hours they'd been working she could easily see how.

It was just frustrating, it was confusing, and no answer seemed to fit.

Needing to be doing something, Sara began to clean up the pills now strewn across the floor.

It gave her time to think, and to her, it seemed as if this behavior of his had been going on much longer than a week. The truth was, he'd started acting this way about the time they'd gotten married. At about the same time they'd gone on different shifts.

Task complete, Sara locked the cap back into place on the bottle and shook it once without reason.

And then it occurred to her; maybe she already had the answer in her hands.

* * *

"Where's Greg?" Warrick asked as soon as Sara came into the conference room.

"Why?"

Warrick stared at her for a half a minute before letting it pass; as if he knew something was wrong.

"I think I've finally figured out the correlation between our victims."

"Really?" Sara asked with much more interest.

"Yeah," Warrick continued. "They all used Paradise in the Desert landscaping."

"Could be a coincidence," Sara provided.

"Yes, it could, if Bonnie Watts wasn't an employee. Brass and Charlie are bringing in the owner now."

"Good," Sara said with a short nod.

"Might be something there. We'll see. I'm still waiting on those fibers from the van…"

"Hodges finished them," Sara provided. "They're denim. Nothing else."

Warrick shrugged. They'd all been hoping for more, but sometimes it happened that way.

Slowly the room started to fill up as the time for the meeting neared. Sara shifted nervously, looking for Greg, not entirely certain if he'd show or not.

"Everyone here?" Grissom asked as he joined the room.

Warrick looked at Sara, curious if she'd speak up, but she didn't have to.

"Greg's not," Amy said.

"We'll give him a few…"

"No," Sara said, talking over her boss, "you can start without him."

Grissom gave her a quizzical look.

"He had something come up," Sara provided lamely. "I'll fill him in later."

Grissom nodded and seemed content with that answer for the time being. The rest of them didn't seem nearly so convinced.

Sara did her best to just focus on what was being said, and not the looks she was getting, but it wasn't easy. She didn't meet any of their stares, excepting one.

Hodges, who was among the last to slip in, turned and caught her attention just long enough to give her a nod.

Whether it was good or bad would have to wait.


	17. Leads

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Chapter 17: Leads **

"Is someone going to tell me what this is all about?"

"You don't have any idea why we brought you here?" Charlie asked in return.

Paul Porter, the owner and operator of Paradise in the Desert landscaping services, just shook his head with an indifferent smile planted firmly on his face.

Charlie, having refused to sit, glared down at him.

"Why don't you think it over for a minute. We've got plenty of time."

"Do you?" he asked. "I was under the impression that you guys were pretty busy. At least, that's what the news keeps saying."

"Let's cut the crap," Brass said. "Three of your customers were kidnapped. That's quite a coincidence."

"I have a lot of customers."

"No you don't," Charlie countered. "You have five. Five customers isn't a lot."

"Well, I'm new to the business."

"So new you don't have a license," Charlie stated.

"I've filed my application."

"Uh huh."

"How many employees do you have?" Brass asked calmly.

"A couple."

"What is that, two? Three?" Charlie asked.

"Two. A couple is two."

"Bonnie Watts one of those employees?" Brass continued questioning.

"No, I fired her."

"When?" Charlie asked, not nearly as calm as Brass was.

"A few weeks ago. She hardly showed up to work as it was. The girl was flakey."

"Flakey how?" Charlie persisted.

"Flakey, flighty. You know the type. She wanted the money, she just didn't want to work for it."

"Who else is on your payroll?" Brass asked.

"Just another girl, Jenny. She mostly does the books."

"Jenny what?"

"Jenny Isaacs. You want her number?"

"So, Jenny does the books, you run the place, what was Bonnie's job?" Brass asked instead.

"She was the grunt. Maybe that's why she quit."

"Didn't like getting dirty?" Charlie asked.

"That must be it," Paul returned easily.

"Have you heard from Bonnie lately?" Brass asked.

"Not since she picked up her last check."

"We have," Brass said as he slid a picture of the dead woman across the table at the man.

"Wow," Paul said, without much inflection and hardly without looking at it. "That's too bad. When did this happen?"

"We thought you might know," Charlie answered.

"Like I said, haven't seen her in weeks."

"Just so we're all on the same page," Brass began after a length pause. "You've got a business with only five customers and two employees. Three of those clients just happen to end up kidnapped and one of your employees just happens to end up dead. Like I said, that's quite a coincidence."

"It sure is."

"I don't believe in coincidence."

* * *

After the meeting ended at the lab, Sara was almost immediately accosted by Nick, Amy and Warrick, all wanting answers about Greg.

"Not now," Sara said, holding up her hands and moving away. "I have some things to check and we'll talk later."

"Does that go for me as well?" Grissom asked from behind.

"Yes," Sara said, turning to face him and Catherine. "I just… if you see him… I… "

Sara stopped, hating the fact that everyone was looking at her so seriously.

Hodges cleared his throat loudly from the doorway, giving her not only a reason to look away but an excuse to go.

Sara said nothing more, just left them all wondering, as she followed Hodges quickly down the hall to the trace lab.

"What'd you get?" she asked, closing the door.

"Are you certain you gave me the right pills?" he asked, unusually serious.

"Positive," Sara asserted. "I took them right from his bottle."

Hodges actually looked upset at the news.

"It's not Elavil."

Sara ran a hand across her forehead, looking down and trying to collect herself.

"What is it then?"

"Acetylsalicylic acid."

"Aspirin?" Sara said as if she didn't believe him.

"Check this out," he said, motioning to the microscope. "Look at the pill. Someone scrapped off the letters. Did a good job too. If you weren't looking too carefully, they'd pass for the real thing."

"Why would he replace his medication with aspirin?" Sara wondered out loud.

"You think Sanders did this himself?" Hodges returned, sounding a bit shocked.

"I honestly don't know what to think."

"If you asked me, I'd say that this doesn't seem like Sanders at all."

Sara looked up at him in surprise.

"Why go through this much trouble? If he didn't want to take them anymore, he wouldn't. And, if he was worried what you'd say, he'd just throw one out each day, right? I mean, that's the easiest thing to do. This just feels more like someone doesn't want him taking this medication."

Sara nodded, feeling relieved.

"Do you think it has to do with the kidnappings?" Hodges asked in a low whisper, despite the door being shut.

Sara perked up at that idea.

"Thanks," she said sincerely before rushing out the door.

"I live to serve."

* * *

"Hello."

"I've really screwed up."

"Hmm?"

"Dr. Jennings? I did call the right number, right?"

"Yes, this is she. Who…"

"It's Greg. Greg Sanders. I've… I've screwed up and now I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Slow down."

"Okay. Sorry. I just… I haven't been taking my meds. I thought I was, I meant to take them, I have just been so busy. I really thought I was. I don't know how this happened. What am I supposed to do?"

"Okay," she said calmly on the other end of the line, "just take a deep breath. It's fine. It's going to be fine."

"No, it's not," Greg argued. "I got into a huge fight with Sara about it. I thought she didn't believe me and as it turns out, she had reason not to because it's true. It's all true. I'm never going to get this right, am I? I'm just…"

"Greg," Dr. Jennings said loudly, "where are you?"

"At some diner."

"Good," she said. "Is Sara there?"

"No."

"Can you call her?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I can do that."

"Good. Call her and have her to take you home. I want you to call me as soon as you get there and to start taking the Elavil again immediately. Tomorrow morning, my office at nine. Alright?"

"Yeah."

"It's going to be okay. I promise."

"Thanks."

"Now call her, please."

"I will."

* * *

"So, what's going on?"

Sara sighed and shook her head. How could she explain all this?

"It's Greg," she began.

Grissom nodded and sat back on the edge of his desk, waiting for more.

"You know how angry I was with him. How, upset, about his accepting that assignment."

"Yes."

"There's more. This just… it's been a thousand little things I should have seen. No, I did see, but ignored. I'd hoped…"

Sara stopped and took a deep breath.

"I hoped I was wrong."

"I take it tonight you got confirmation?"

Sara nodded in affirmation.

"You're sure."

"Yes, but, it's not what you think. I'm not sure what it is actually."

Grissom straightened up, curious at what Sara could possibly mean.

"I asked Hodges to check Greg's medication and, it wasn't Elavil. Its aspirin."

"What?"

"Some one deliberately changed his medication. Whether they wanted to just mess with him or if this is all apart of something bigger…"

"Oh, I think it's bigger."

Sara sighed. That's what she was afraid of.

"What do we do?" she asked after a heavy pause.

"Did Hodges document this?"

"No," she said. "He did it off the record, for me."

"Have him write it up, but it goes no further than the three of us."

"What about Greg?"

"Greg, of course, has to know. After that…"

"No one; got it."

"Good. Anything else?"

"Actually, yes," Sara answered, remembering Mitch Anderson and the reason for the fight in the first place. "Greg…"

Sara's phone rang, momentarily stopping her.

"Is it him?" Grissom asked as she checked the caller ID.

Sara smiled tightly and Grissom nodded before stepping into the hallway to give her some privacy.


	18. Hearsay

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Chapter 18: Hearsay**

"Well, do you think he's involved?" Catherine asked Brass, having just heard him relate back the majority of the interview he'd conducted with Paul Porter.

"He knows something," Brass said with a firm nod as they began the climb up the steps to the lab.

As they approached the main entrance, Catherine got a glimpse of a woman standing off to the side speaking into a phone.

"They were screaming at each other; it was great," she caught her saying.

Once they were close enough, Catherine saw who it was and relaxed. It was only Gretchen, taking one of her many breaks no doubt.

"I have no idea," Gretchen said with a near laugh. "Oh, but it's definitely about those kidnappings, on the news. Yeah, and they were talking about that reporter… what's his name… the one who dug up all that dirt before."

Catherine stopped cold and did a complete about face. Brass heard it too and was close behind her.

"Anderson," Gretchen continued, unaware she now had company. "That's the name. Yeah, something about him knowing…"

Gretchen, finally catching on, turned around slowly and quickly shut her phone without saying goodbye.

"What are you doing?" Catherine asked with as much self control as she could manage.

"It's not what it looks like."

"It looks like you are passing confidential information to someone outside this lab," Brass returned.

"Not confidential; just gossip. It's harmless. I was only talking to my sister."

"Not confidential?" Catherine asked angrily. "Not confidential? Are you… "

"Hey, it was the Sanders' twins who were yelling about it in the lobby."

"I don't care if they were screaming about it out over the intercom," Catherine shot back. "You and every other employee in this lab were specifically told that no one outside this lab, and that is absolutely no one, is to know anything about this case."

"It's really not that big a deal," Gretchen scoffed.

"Tell it to Ecklie."

* * *

Sara made quick time to the diner Greg had directed her too. It was only a block or so away, their usual place. Despite the late hour the place was nearly full, but she had no trouble picking him out of the crowd.

"Hey," she said, sitting down at the counter next to him.

Greg gave her a quick, tight smile, before returning to look at his coffee cup.

"I'm sorry I yelled," he said, still refusing to meet her eye.

"We were both wrong."

Greg just shook his head slowly, but held his tongue.

Sara didn't know what to do next. What to say. Greg had been uncharacteristically brief on the phone, only asking that she meet him. She didn't know where they went from here.

"Do you want to go…" she started to ask, but wasn't sure how to finish.

"Home," he provided, twisting the empty cup in his hands so that he'd have something to look at other than her.

"Okay," Sara agreed. She hadn't wanted to suggest it, worried he might take it wrong.

She thought he had more to say, he certainly looked as if he did, but as soon as she'd said 'okay' he gotten up, paid and headed towards the door.

The drive home was silent.

It wasn't until they were there that the mood subtly changed.

Greg sat heavily on the sofa, head in his hands, broken.

"I'm so sorry, Sara."

"You don't…" Sara began as she sat down next to him, to comfort him.

"I do. I'm sorry about what I said. About how I acted. About everything. Mostly, I'm sorry you have to deal with this now. With me. It's not fair to you."

"Stop. I don't have to deal with you at all, I want to. Don't you see that? I want to be with you."

"I don't see why."

"You don't have to see why. I know what to expect. I know that this can happen and I'm okay with it. You need to be, too."

"I'm not, though. I'm not okay with this and I'm never going to be. What is wrong with me? I forget to take a stupid pill and I fall apart. Completely. What…"

"It's not your fault."

"Of course it is. I didn't take them. I'm the one that needs them."

"No, Greg, please. It's really not your fault."

Sara said it with such stress, with such emphasis, that she finally got through.

"Someone switched your medication."

Greg just stared at her in disbelief.

"My guess is that it was only this last month given, well, given your moods," Sara continued as easily as she could. "Grissom thinks it's probably related to the kidnappings. If someone really wanted to get to you…"

"Well, they've done a pretty good job so far," Greg interrupted, sitting back and staring straight ahead.

"They're releasing the last prisoner tomorrow," Sara said. "Grissom doesn't want you in the lab. At all. He still has to clear it with Catherine, but he wants you to take a few days off until…"

She trailed off, not wanting to finish that statement.

"Until I'm normal? It might take longer than a few days."

"He didn't mean it like that."

"I know," Greg said. "It's just as well. Dr. Jennings wants to see me tomorrow. She'll probably want to drug me up anyway."

"When did you talk to her?" Sara asked, surprised.

"I called her before I called you."

Sara tried not to look too hurt by this; tried to understand. It was what Greg was supposed to do after all.

"And I'm supposed to call her now and let her know that you've dropped me off. Like a good little patient."

Sara sighed and watched as Greg got up and went to the phone. She didn't say anything, tried not to listen and tried not to be too jealous. It was something, even after all this time, she was still adjusting too. Greg talking with a shrink. Telling her things he didn't tell Sara. Asking for her help over Sara's.

But now was not the time for this.

Greg was off the phone in a hurry and back in the living room again.

"Did you tell her?"

"About the pills? No," Greg said. "I will tomorrow. I don't have the energy to explain it all right now. I feel so tired and I know I'm not going to be able to sleep."

"Not standing here you're not."

The barest flicker of a smile passed over his features before he agreed to the truth of that statement.

"Come on," Sara said, standing and taking him by the hand. "Let's go."

Greg let Sara lead him down the hallway to their bedroom without complaint. As he was getting out of the shower, her phone rang and she knew without looking that it was the lab.

"Greg," Sara called out, joining him in the bathroom. "I've got to go back in. There's been…I'm not sure. Grissom sounds angry."

"Everything okay?"

"I don't know. Will you be okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Go. If I can't sleep I'll read or something. Don't worry."

"If you need anything, call me, please."

"Sure."

Sara paused awkwardly. Not sure if she should kiss him or hug him or what.

Greg decided it for her, coming over and pulling her into his arms before giving her a short but tender kiss.

"I love you."

"I love you," Sara returned.

* * *

Amy was on her third break of the night.

Maybe it the stress, or the lack of sleep, or the pregnancy finally getting to her, but she was now seriously reconsidering cutting back her hours.

She just couldn't keep this up. Not for another three and a half months. There was no way.

"Did you hear what happened?"

Amy looked up from the paperwork she'd been reviewing in the break room as Dave Hodges sat down across from her.

"No," Amy said, looking around and wondering why he was whispering.

"Gretchen was fired."

"What?" Amy loudly exclaimed.

"I've heard it was because she was caught talking about the kidnappings, but that's only speculation."

"Talking to who?" Amy asked, leaning in and growing concerned. She'd never liked Gretchen but she didn't think she would do something like this.

"Don't know," Dave returned. "But Ecklie, Grissom, Catherine and Sara have been locked up in the boss' office for an hour now."

"How do you know all this?" Amy asked with a hint of a smile.

"I see things," Dave said, leaning back and looking proud of himself.

"Who told you?" Amy asked skeptically, still smiling.

"Okay, so Bobby might have overheard part and Mandy might have seen something, I put two and two together."

"I'm impressed."

"Well thank you."

"Hey," Nick said as he walked in the room and came over to them. "What's happening?"

Amy was just about to begin when Kevin and Warrick also came into the break room.

"I'll tell you later," Amy said pointedly. "Besides, I need to get back to the lab. I've been sitting here long enough. Wendy, Mia, whichever one of them is on tonight probably thinks I've gone home."

"I'll walk with you," Nick said, standing with her.

"Thanks for the chat," Amy said over her shoulder to Dave.

"Any time," he returned.

"Bye, guys," Nick called out as they both exited the room.

"She's pretty cute," Kevin said, taking Amy's vacant seat. "Too bad she got knocked up. She probably had a nice figure, you know, before."

Warrick looked over in complete shock. He shouldn't have been so surprised, considering the source, but he was. Too shocked for words.

Hodges, for his part, just looked angry.

"Hey," Kevin continued, oblivious to the looks he was getting, "were you two here earlier tonight? I heard Sanders blew a gasket. Is it true?"

"What?" Warrick asked; standing and coming closer to the other two men.

"Greg," Kevin repeated. "I heard him and the little lady had a screaming fight up and down the hallway. Did they have to come take him away or what?"

"Where did you hear that?" Warrick asked.

"No," Hodges interrupted, "go back to Amy. What makes you think you can talk about her like that?"

All three men virtually exploded, one talking over the next, trying to be heard.

"Hey!"

Warrick, Hodges and Kevin all turned and looked towards the sound of the new voice.

"What is going on here?" Grissom asked.

Both Warrick and Hodges turned towards Kevin, waiting for him to give his explanation.

"I don't know what the problem is," he said in his own defense. "They just started yelling at me…"

Angry at this gross misrepresentation, both men did just that; they started yelling at him.

"Enough," Grissom cut in. "This isn't high school. Kevin, Catherine wants to see you about a case. Warrick, I need to talk to you in private. Hodges… just…"

"I'll get back to work," he finished.

"Good," Grissom said firmly.

As Kevin and Hodges left, Tess came in.

"Grissom," she said, "Ecklie asked if you can come back to his office."

"Now?"

Tess just nodded her head with a shrug.

"Warrick, we'll talk later," Grissom said as he headed for the door. "Tess, I've got a case for you. Give me ten minutes and then come see me."

"Got it," she called out to him.

"Hey," Warrick started, "have you heard anything about Greg and Sara lately?"

"Lately, like when?" she asked back.

"Like tonight."

"About the fight?"

"Oh man, so it's like common knowledge?"

"Nothing gets past all these eyes," Tess answered, waving a hand vaguely at the labs behind her. "You should know that."

"I should… I just thought…never mind."

Tess nodded.

"What did you hear?" he asked.

"Just that they had one hell of a fight. Yelling and stomping. Of course, it's probably been exaggerated just a bit by the time it got to me."

Warrick laughed. He knew perfectly well how the gossip mill operated in the lab.

"They okay?" she asked after he'd stopped, not without some concern.

"It's probably nothing. Once you've been here long enough you'll find that Sara and Greg can fight about anything."

Tess smiled and nodded in understanding.

"Anything else you want to know?" she jokingly asked.

"Nah, we're good."

"Good," she repeated. "Because I'm not one to gossip, and if you'd have kept asking, I'd have to have told you all about Gretchen getting her sorry behind bounced."

"Really?"


	19. Casualties

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes:** Thank you Tripp3235. Thank you RivenSky. Thank you readers!

**Chapter 19: Casualties**

Sara couldn't lie. When Grissom had confronted her about Mitch Anderson, she'd told him everything. She'd always planned to, but the whole situation with Greg had sidetracked her.

Ecklie had been livid.

Never having been his favorites, he'd wanted both Greg and Sara fired along with Gretchen for broadcasting potential evidence on a restricted case throughout the lab.

It was Catherine who had saved them. Right after she'd reported Gretchen to Ecklie, she'd reviewed the lobby security tapes herself. It was clear to see, although both were agitated, they were not speaking nearly as loudly as Gretchen had claimed. The cameras hadn't even picked up their voices.

That out of the way, Grissom went on to explain to Catherine and Ecklie exactly what was happening with Greg.

Catherine's response of outrage wasn't surprising, but Ecklie's was. He seemed honestly affected that someone in this lab, his lab, would do this, and that in all likelihood it was someone he had hired.

Ecklie decided, almost immediately, that given the circumstances Greg was no longer allowed to investigate this case. Catherine and Grissom both readily agreed. He was involved enough as it was; exposing him to further risk wasn't worth it.

Sara was relieved.

Ecklie wanted Mitch Anderson picked up and questioned, as soon as possible. And, he wanted Grissom and Catherine to do it.

That was the last Sara had heard of it until much later in the shift when Charlie showed up.

"Sara, got a minute?" he asked from the doorway of the layout room she'd been occupying.

"Sure," she answered.

Charlie stepped in immediately and shut the door behind him.

"Where's Nick?"

"I think he's with Bobby," Sara answered. "Why? What's happened?"

"Brass just called. He wants the three of us at a scene, as soon as possible."

"Is it about the case?"

"He wouldn't say over the radio, but if I had to guess..."

He left the rest unsaid, just nodded briskly.

Sara said no more, just cleaned up her workspace as Charlie went off in quest of Nick.

Fifteen minutes later the three of them were cruising down the interstate towards North Vegas.

"You have no idea what this is about?" Nick asked.

"None," Charlie answered. "I was just given an address and told to bring the two of you there."

"Okay," Nick continued, turning his attention to Sara. "So, what happened with Greg?"

"I can't say."

"What's going on?" Charlie asked, looking quickly from one to the next.

"Nothing," Sara said flatly.

"Nothing? Half the lab saw the two of you fighting and then he got sent home. Catherine made it sound like he wasn't coming back. What gives?"

"Nick, I really can't say."

"Is it about the case?" Charlie asked.

"Both of you, stop," Sara said firmly. "Greg's fine. He's home and he's probably going to stay home for a few days. That's all you need to know for now."

Nick and Charlie exchanged a quick look but didn't press it further. Neither of them liked feeling out of the loop, especially considering the scope of the case, but it was obvious Sara wasn't going to give.

"We're here," Charlie said a few minutes later, coming to stop outside a small house.

Brass's car and one of the lab's SUVs was parked out front, but otherwise the scene was empty.

"What kind of call is this?" Nick asked.

"He didn't say," Charlie returned uneasily. "Stay back for a minute."

Charlie approached the darkened house slowly, his only good hand on his revolver. Before he got all the way to the door, it opened.

"Good," Brass greeted him, "you're here. Come on, we've got a lot to do."

Once inside, Sara heard Grissom and Catherine talking from one of the back rooms, but still had no idea what was happening.

"Welcome to Mitch Anderson's home," Brass said.

"Isn't he the guy who called Greg?" Charlie asked. "The one with the tip?"

"Yeah," Nick answered. "He's also the guy who followed him around for months making up stories to put in the paper."

"That's the one," Brass confirmed.

"So, why are we here?" Sara asked.

"On a hunch," Brass said, leading the way through the house, "we stopped by to have a little chat with Mr. Anderson. Turns out, he didn't have much to say."

Brass opened the door to the garage and there he was, behind the wheel of his car, shot in the head.

"Suicide?" Nick asked skeptically.

"I'm no expert," Brass returned, "but I'd say no."

Sara felt like she was in shock.

This was exactly what Greg had been afraid of, that Anderson had been telling the truth. That someone really was after him; was going to kill him for talking.

Greg was never going to forgive her for this.

He was never going to forgive himself either.

* * *

"You haven't been sleeping."

It wasn't a question, but Greg still answered it with a nod.

"I haven't been doing a lot of things."

"So," Dr. Jennings said as she started the tape recorder, "what happened?"

"I've just been busy. Really, really busy."

"And you forgot your medication?"

"Yes," Greg answered simply.

It was the truth.

"What's been keeping you so preoccupied?"

"My life."

"Specifically."

"My job," Greg returned. "This case we're on. I'm up for a promotion and I really want it. And at first, that's probably why I was so focused, but then it just got out of control."

Dr. Jennings nodded and gave him the look. She was very good at looking at him and silently asking for more. She knew him, his tells, and his tone well enough to know when he wasn't being entirely honest.

It could get annoying, but it forced him to be truthful.

"There's a lot happening that I can't talk about," he stated. "A lot concerning me, and I'm not just being paranoid. I thought I was, I thought I was losing it, but it's true."

"I don't understand."

"No, I'm sure you don't and I really can't explain it. I can't talk about work right now, not even to you."

The rest of their session had been much the same. Dr. Jennings asked lots of questions, but Greg rarely answered them completely.

It was frustrating.

She knew there was something else going on, but couldn't place what exactly. It hadn't been so long since she'd last seen him; not so long to account for this type of change.

It ended with Greg asking for a new prescription of Elavil. He briefly explained that he had thrown his out, angry with himself over his mistake. She'd written a new one and something more. Another sleeping aid.

Greg was extremely reluctant. He'd just stopped taking the last one a few weeks ago, and it hadn't been easy.

But Dr. Jennings had persisted.

She was only going to prescribe him one; one only for him to take immediately so that he could get some rest.

Sighing, he knew he was defeated.

And he had to admit, it would be nice to sleep again.

* * *

The only good that came from Mitch Anderson's death was that they now had complete access to all his phone records, accounts and computer files.

It was the only good.

That, of course, was going to take time to pour through, and time was something they didn't have.

After all the evidence was brought in, Charlie was the first to call it quits. His arm was aching too badly for him not to take some type of pain relievers and if he wanted to be back that afternoon, he'd have to leave now.

Amy stopped by briefly to talk with Nick. She could see it in his eyes that he wasn't leaving, so didn't press him. She stayed long enough to watch the news broadcast of the last of the requested prisoners' release, but that was it. She gave Nick a peck on the cheek, wished them all luck, and was gone.

Soon after, Grissom and Catherine were called away to yet another conference with Ecklie. Brass had stuck around awhile longer, but had other cases to worry about as well. He told Nick and Sara to call if they found anything, and then he too was gone.

Shut up in the largest layout room, Nick and Sara combed through it all.

There was just so much information.

"Hey," Nick said looking up from one of the many piles of paper he had amassed before him. "I think I've got something."

Sara perked up, looking over at him with renewed curiosity.

"A map."

"Of what?" Sara asked, coming around to see it for herself.

"Southern Nevada."

"What are all these marks?" Sara asked, pointing out the various locations that had been circled.

"Okay, well this one is at Lake Las Vegas, so I'm guessing red is where the victims were taken."

"That looks about right," Sara agreed. There were three different spots marked in red. "These must be drop off points. That's the store where Allison Whittington was left. And there's the gas station. So, blue is drop offs."

"Good," Nick said with a nod. "Alright, so green?"

"The prisons," Sara answered immediately. "Look, each one of them was in a different facility…"

"Wait, there are four here in green, not three."

Sara looked again.

"Maybe they had another prisoner picked out?"

"It's possible," Nick agreed.

They both continued to think about it in silence for a minute longer.

"What do you think yellow means?"

"Where's yellow?" Nick asked, scanning the map.

"It's here," Sara pointed to the one, small spot of yellow nearly off the map.

"That's on the way to Pahrump," Nick stated. "You don't think…"

"That Anderson marked the hideout as well? Yeah, I think he might have."

"Why would he do that?"

"I'm not sure he was entirely in on this," Sara answered. "At least, not willingly."

Nick nodded.

"Should we go check it out?" he asked.

Sara nodded.

They definitely needed to check this out.


	20. Falling into Place

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes:** Thank you RivenSky and Tripp3235 for all your help. Sorry this chapter took forever. Real life just happened to take precedence.

**Chapter 20: Falling into Place**

"You look awful."

"No, really," Charlie returned, "don't spare my feelings."

"But it's true," Catherine laughed. "I'm sorry, but…"

"Yeah, I know," Charlie interrupted. "I only got a few hours sleep. As soon as this case is over I'm putting in for vacation."

"Sounds like a good idea," Grissom added.

"So, what happened?" Charlie asked, ready to cut the small talk.

Catherine gave him a slight nod as she led the way across the parking lot to the ambulance where Nikki Devlon, their third kidnapped victim, was being treated.

"They didn't rough her up or anything did they?" he asked along the way.

"No," Catherine assured him. "She fainted. Stress."

Charlie nodded.

It had all gone down much smoother and much different than the previous times. Shortly after two that afternoon they'd gotten the call, but this time it was made by Mrs. Devlon. Apparently they had dropped her off at an outlet mall at noon. They'd told her to wait three hours before calling 911, but she hadn't been able to. She'd panicked, and now was panicking more thinking that the kidnappers may come back for her or her family.

"Why wait?" Charlie asked no one in particular, after getting all the details.

"Gives them time to get away."

"That's a lot of time," Charlie returned.

"Grissom thought so too," Catherine said. "As a precaution they've evacuated the mall and are searching for bombs."

"Ms. Willows," one of the paramedics called out. "We're going to roll now."

"With or without Mrs. Devlon?" Catherine asked.

"With. Her blood pressure doesn't look good."

"I'll be right behind you."

"Do you want me to come too?" Charlie asked her.

"No," she waved him off, "I'll get one of the patrol men to come stand guard, just in case. But, I think right now, we need to give her some space. If too many of us go…"

"She'll feel ganged up on, right. So, I guess I'll go back to the station."

"You should go home," Catherine said as she turned back towards her car. "I mean it."

"I can sleep later," he said with a smile, ready for another long night.

* * *

"This has to be it," Sara said confidently, turning on her flashlight and scanning the entrance to a large cave just behind a worn down shack. 

"Not that I doubt you," Nick began, "but you've said that three times already."

"Fourth times the charm?" Brass asked with a smile.

"Well, this time I am certain," Sara continued. "Check that out."

She had shown the light down at the ground which looked slightly yellow in spots.

"Sulfur," Nick commented. "I think you may be right. Finally."

Before Sara could retort, Brass stepped in front and drew his gun.

"Just in case," he said over his shoulder as they slowly made their way inside.

The cave wasn't very deep. After an initial bend, it seemed to open up entirely. There were several small scrapes in the side that looked just large enough to stash a person in.

Aside from that there was a generator, chair and backdrop.

"Alright," Sara said, brightened by the new discovery, "let's get started."

* * *

"How long did it take you to get in through security?" 

Amy smiled, still looking into the microscope as she answered.

"Not long, about twenty minutes."

Hodges laughed as he leaned back against the counter.

"You?" she asked in return.

"The same," he said. "Judy is making the new girl check everyone's badges against the active roster."

"I hate that; the new girl. She has a name."

"Do you know it?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"No," Amy admitted, finally finished and logging her results. "But everyone has a name. It's disrespectful. I hated being called the new girl."

"Beats being called the old girl, doesn't it?"

Amy smiled and gave him a slight nod.

"Have you heard anything about…" Hodges asked, deliberately trailing off as he looked quickly around the lab.

"Gretchen or the other thing?"

"The other," he said. "We all knew Gretchen was going to be fired eventually. It was only a matter of time."

"All I know is that Catherine is collecting evidence on Mrs. Devlon. That and Nick never came home today."

"Oh?" Hodges asked with some interest.

Amy didn't say anymore, but the smile had disappeared off of her face.

"Is everything okay?" Hodges continued tentatively.

"Yes," Amy said nodding a bit too enthusiastically as she looked about the room. "You know, it hasn't been… well, with the baby coming and work and… its fine. Really. Fine."

"Are you sure you don't want to…"

Before he could finish asking that question Mia joined them in the lab.

"Hi," Amy said with a falsely cheerful voice.

Mia only smiled tightly and nodded.

"You're early," Amy commented, checking the clock and seeing it was just after five.

"Isn't that why you're here too?" Mia asked, causing both Amy and Hodges some confusion. "You got the page, right?"

"No," they answered in unison.

Mia didn't get a chance to explain as Charlie came bolting in, interrupting once more.

"Where's Grissom?" he asked, sounding out of breath.

"No idea," Hodges answered.

"I think he headed over to the hospital to help out Catherine," Amy provided. "Is everything okay?"

Charlie shook his head and kept asking questions.

"What about Warrick? Is he around?"

"I haven't seen him," Amy answered once more, looking concerned. "What's wrong?"

"I'll explain later, just, stick tight. Okay? And don't leave the lab."

"Why…"

"Just don't leave."

Without time to tell them anything further, Charlie raced out the door and down the hallway straight to Grissom's office.

His own cell phone had died half an hour ago, something that hadn't surprised him since he'd barely had time to shower over the last week let alone remember to charge the stupid thing. He'd already tried contacting Brass via radio with no luck. Dispatch was to keep trying, but Brass wasn't the priority right now. Brass, Nick and Sara were far enough away to be considered safe. That and they weren't the target.

It was chaos.

Charlie had strict orders to stay at the lab and wait for additional information. The problem was Charlie knew that by the time they got a plan in order, it would be too late.

He needed someone to go and get Greg now.

The phone rang five times before he hung up and tried a new number.

Warrick answered on the second ring with a sleepy, "Hello."

"It's Charlie, I need you to go over to Greg's house and pick him up."

"What? Charlie, what's happened? Is everything alright?"

"No, no it's not. I can't leave the lab and I don't want anyone else to either. I think Greg's in danger. I can't get him on the phone…"

"Slow down," Warrick cut in, sounding much more alert than before. "Just tell me what's happened…"

"Diane Ortega escaped."

"What?"

"We just got called," Charlie continued without pause. "They didn't notice she was gone until an hour ago and have no idea how long she's been out. She could be back in Vegas by now."

"How'd it happen?"

"I don't know but I've got a bad feeling about this. It's just too coincidental that today, of all days, the day the last victim is released, she just walks out…"

"I hear you," Warrick agreed. "What about Sara and Nick, do they know?"

"No one knows," Charlie answered. "I just found out. I can't reach Brass, but he's with Sara and Nick so they should be fine. I had to come straight to the lab. Grissom, Ecklie, Sofia… no one is here. As soon as I'm off the phone with you I'm going to tell the lab personnel so they are on alert, but…"

"Greg," Warrick provided, feeling uneasy. "Don't worry about him. I'll go to his place, pick him up and we'll be at the lab in an hour, tops. Okay?"

"Good," Charlie said with some relief. "Call me if there's a problem."

Warrick assured him he would and Charlie believed him. Ever since he'd gotten the call he'd been filled with an overwhelming sense of unease. Like the pieces to the puzzle were finally falling into place and the picture wasn't pretty.

Maybe he was being paranoid, overreacting, but he'd rather be safe than sorry.

* * *

If she hadn't really needed this job Alice Stanley would have walked out three hours ago. 

Judy, the woman training her, had just left to grab them both a quick dinner and she couldn't have gone soon enough. Alice was sure she was nice enough, but she'd had enough instruction for one day. Really, how hard could answering phones be?

It wasn't that she treated her job lightly; Alice understood that working at the Las Vegas Crime Lab was a big responsibility, but it wasn't exactly a life or death situation. She was to answer the phones, take messages, and make sure everyone coming into the building had proper identification.

It was a breeze.

She really couldn't understand what the big deal was or why Judy seemed so paranoid.

Ten minutes after Judy left a tall brunet entered the lobby and headed straight for the main doors.

"Excuse me," Alice called out, "I need to see your ID."

The woman smiled tightly, looking annoyed. Not that Alice blamed her. She'd probably been working here for years. Alice would be annoyed too in her situation.

"First night?" she asked.

"Yeah," Alice answered, taking the offered badge and pulling out the roster. "Sorry about this. After a few nights I'm sure I'll know everyone by sight."

"Well, there are a lot of people working here. It might take more than a few nights."

Alice smiled, finding the name she was looking for and skimming over the information on the badge once more to be certain.

"Looks good," Alice said with a smile, handing back the identification card.

"Nice to see I still have a job," the other woman replied.

Alice laughed as she put away the book.

"Have a good night Ms. Sidle," she called after her.

"Oh, I will."


	21. Open Fire

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Chapter 21: Open Fire**

Mia was busy straightening up the lab preparing for another night at work.

Not long after Detective Sullivan had stepped in, Amy and Hodges had stepped out to talk. Mia understood that they were both a part of a task force that she was not, but hoped this whole thing would be over soon.

It was frustrating not being as involved as she'd like to be.

With her back to the door she heard someone step inside. Turning she saw an unfamiliar woman standing near the counter.

"Can I help you?" Mia asked, assuming by the woman's attire and the weapon holster at her hip that she was a detective. Mia knew everyone well enough now by sight to know that she didn't work at the lab.

"Is Sanders on duty tonight?"

"Which one?" Mia asked back.

The woman hesitated for a moment before finally saying, "Greg."

"I don't think he is, at least, I haven't seen him yet. He's usually in by now."

"What about Stokes?"

"He's on tonight," Mia answered, "but he's out on assignment right now. Do you want me to page either of them?"

The woman looked as though she was considering it as she turned and scanned the lab, lingering briefly on the break room.

"No need," she finally said, turning quickly and moving down the hall.

Mia stared after her for only a second before getting back to work; not knowing that in a few minutes all hell was going to break loose.

* * *

Warrick had wasted no time getting dressed and heading over to Greg and Sara's house. On the way he'd tried several times to reach Greg on his cell phone and his home phone with no luck. Desperate, he'd even tried Dr. Jennings' office hoping he might just be at a late session but without success. 

Greg had to be home.

Parking his car haphazardly behind Greg's in the driveway, Warrick made his way to the door, drawing his gun as he went.

"Greg," Warrick yelled as he banged on the door. "Open up!"

After trying the handle, only to find it locked, Warrick stepped around to the window and tried to get a look inside.

"Greg," he yelled again, once more at the door continuing to knock loudly as he did so.

There was still no answer and no sign of life inside the house.

Warrick moved back down the walkway, turned and faced the house in frustration unsure of what to do next.

"Is everything alright?"

Warrick turned, surprised by the voice.

"Mr. Brown?" Betty, Greg and Sara's nosey neighbor from across the street called out. She looked worried.

"Hi Betty," Warrick returned, putting his gun back in its holster as he crossed the street to talk to her. "You don't happen to know where Greg is, do you?"

"No," she said with a slight shake of her head. "No, I haven't seen him today, but with the hours he works… I'm sure he's going to work himself into an early grave."

"Let's hope not," Warrick said under his breath.

"There's nothing wrong, is there?"

"No," Warrick lied, "I just needed to talk to him."

"Good," Betty said, looking relieved. "He's such a nice young man. I told that woman who stopped by earlier the same. He's so busy; everyone is always stopping by…"

"Woman?" Warrick interrupted. "What woman? When was this?"

"About an hour ago," Betty answered. "I don't know her name but I'd seen her before, I'm sure of it; tall with dark hair. She knocked a few times and then walked around back. She said she needed him for work, too. You really do work him too hard. It's not good for him, you know."

"Betty, do me a favor. Go inside and call the cops. Tell them CSI Brown asked you to call and direct them here. Immediately."

"What's…"

"Just do it," Warrick said, drawing his gun again as he rushed back across the street.

* * *

Bobby Dawson had only come in early that day to help catch up on the backlog. Like Mia, he wasn't a primary on the kidnapping case, but because of that very reason he was actually busier than normal. The lab only employed two full time ballistics experts, and Myers had his hands full so Bobby was picking up the slack. 

He set about going through the current cases, deciding what to check first and what could wait; his normal tasks, typical of how he started every night.

Everything seemed perfectly normal until he happened to look up and across the hall at Mia. She looked frightened and confused. Bobby stared at her for half a second before he followed her eyes to what was causing her reaction.

Just as he turned to see for himself, there was shouting.

Charlie was standing in the doorway of the break room, gun drawn and shouting at whoever was inside.

It barely registered to Bobby what he was hearing. That the series of pops he heard next were in fact gunfire. More yells and someone's screams cut short.

It all happened so fast.

* * *

The back door was open. 

Warrick pushed it open with his free hand and quickly took in the details of the master bedroom.

The bed was made. The bathroom and closet doors were open. The main door that led back to the rest of the house was closed. There were no clothes anywhere. It looked as if no one was home.

After ensuring that the room was indeed empty, Warrick proceeded down the hallway. The first room, the guest room, was also empty as was the bathroom that stood beside it. It wasn't until he opened the door to the spare room, the one both Greg and Sara jokingly called Greg's room, did he find who he was looking for.

Entering the room Warrick was sure he was too late.

Greg was there, sprawled out on the futon, entirely too still and pale to be alive. A blanket covered a good part of him and a pillow obscured his face.

Once again, Warrick put his gun away as he walked slowly across the room.

"Damn it," he whispered, kneeling down beside the prone figure.

Warrick reached out to remove the pillow, bracing himself for the worse. Just as he picked it up, Greg rolled onto his side with a low grunt.

Caught between relief and annoyance, Warrick tossed the pillow onto the floor.

"Greg," he said loudly as he took hold and shook him by the shoulder. "Greg, get up!"

There was no response.

"Greg," he repeated, shaking him harder this time and finally getting a reaction.

Greg slowly opened his eyes, blinking heavily and sitting up part of the way.

"What…"

Warrick's phone rang.

"Brown," he answered, stepping back to give Greg room to sit up.

"We got a call from a woman saying you needed assistance at…"

"Cancel it," Warrick interrupted. "Everything's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Warrick confirmed. "Thanks."

Hanging up he turned back to Greg who was now sitting with his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes slowly.

"Greg," Warrick said, "you scared the hell out of me."

"I was sleeping," Greg managed through an enormous yawn.

"Sleeping," Warrick repeated, giving him a hard look. "What are you on?"

"Huh?"

"What are you on?" Warrick said again, louder this time.

"Nothing," Greg answered, perturbed.

"Don't give me that. You had to have taken something. I was banging at your door, yelling, calling your phone. You didn't hear any of that?"

"What? No. I was sleeping. I haven't…"

Greg stopped talking as he struggled to get to his feet without success. Sitting back down heavily, and in a hurry, Greg looked as surprised as Warrick did by the action.

As Greg regained his bearings, Warrick looked around the room and spotted the problem. Picking up a nearby pill bottle, he scanned the label and shook his head.

"Halcion?" he questioned. "I thought you weren't taking anything."

"Man, that's right. I forgot."

"Uh huh," Warrick said. "When did you take this?"

"When I got home," Greg said through another massive yawn. "About noon, I think."

"No wonder we couldn't wake you. I thought you stopped taking this stuff."

"I did," Greg argued. "Dr. Jennings' gave those to me. Short term, to help me sleep."

"What's going on with you?"

"Don't start," Greg said as he struggled to his feet once more. "I really don't need this right now."

"Don't need this," Warrick echoed.

"Exactly," Greg said, slowly making his way down the hall towards the bedroom. "I already answer to Sara and Catherine and Grissom and Ecklie and my parents. If you want in line, there's plenty of room behind Amy and Nick. And Dr. Jennings. And Dr. Tracey."

"I'm not trying to hassle you," Warrick said as he followed him. "Greg, this is serious."

"Oh, I know it."

Warrick's phone rang again, diverting his attention. Greg however just kept talking.

"I'm really sick of people thinking they know what's best for me. You know, by now I'm old enough to decide that for myself…"

"Greg…"

"So what if I took a sleeping pill. It's prescribed. I'm not doing anything illegal. Hell, I'm not even on the case anymore, I'm probably not even allowed back in the lab, so what does it matter, right?"

"Greg, shut up. I can't hear."

"I'm not going to shut up. This is my house, which… how did you get in anyway?"

Warrick wasn't listening; he was too busy on the phone.

"Did you just break in the front door or what?"

Warrick motioned with his head towards the back door, still intent on his phone conversation.

"Was it open?" Greg asked, distracted as he headed that way. "We don't even use this door."

"Greg," Warrick said, "we've got to go. Get dressed, now."

Greg momentarily thought to protest, but something about the serious look on Warrick's face stopped him.

"What's wrong?" he asked instead, shutting and locking the door he'd been examining.

"There's been a shooting at the lab."


	22. Providence

**Ties by SLynn  
****Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Notes:** Remember me? Thought not. Okay, so I've been a little caught up in my Heroes fandom and mainly writing for that as of late, but the good news is that it inspired me to finish this story and this series. So, while I can't say that this will be done soon (like tomorrow) I can promise to try and finish it before the internet becomes obsolete. Thank you RivenSky and Tripp3235 for your help and for keeping me on task.

**Chapter 22: Providence**

Diane Ortega had walked straight into the Las Vegas Crime Lab without so much as anyone giving her a second glance.

It wasn't luck that had gotten her here, it was providence. And if providence had a little help on the inside, all the better.

She'd breezed past the new receptionist. Diane didn't even know her name and she didn't have to. All she had to do was show the doctored badge and she was on her way. Diane knew ahead of time that 'Sara Sidle' was still in the books. Her source had double checked. The rosters were supposed to be updated whenever there was a personnel change, but that rarely happened. And if the new roster that was supposed to be put in place last week got misplaced, again, providence.

Diane walked on with purpose, as if she knew where she was going, and she did. She was on a mission, a personal mission, and it took her straight to the DNA laboratory.

She'd hoped to find Sanders there. From what she'd been told, it was where he spent most of his time now despite being an investigator.

The woman she found instead she knew. No, she'd never met Mia Dickerson before today, but she knew her just the same. Diane had been told all about both her and Wendy Sims, the other new DNA tech. The plan was that both women would be paged in that afternoon. If anything, the more new people around that didn't know her face could only help add to the confusion she'd hoped to cause.

But that's when things started to fall apart.

Diane quickly discovered that Sanders, Greg Sanders, wasn't in the lab and wasn't expected in either. Her second target, Nick Stokes, was out as well.

She was furious, but hadn't let it show. Absolutely furious. Until then, her insider hadn't been wrong. Diane had been told that they'd be there, that they'd both be there that afternoon but hadn't bothered to double check. She'd been in too big of a hurry. She'd wanted revenge and had waited long enough to get it.

Diane had wanted Sanders and Stokes to pay for all the problems they'd caused her. It was the only reason she'd come at all. It was what all of this had been about. About getting even. Settling the score. Collectively, they'd ruined her life and she planned on taking theirs in return.

Only they weren't here like they were supposed to be, so she'd have to do the next best thing.

Providence was good to her.

"So, you're sure that everything is alright? Because, you didn't sound like it back there."

"It really isn't anything important," Amy said with a sigh.

"Okay," Hodges relented reluctantly.

For a moment they sat in silence, neither knowing where to take the conversation to next.

"What do you think Charlie wanted?" he finally asked.

"He wants to get married."

"What?"

"Nick," Amy provided. "Nick wants to get married. It's almost the only thing we ever talk about. And I know he's under a lot of pressure from his family, but so am I. I just don't know what to do about it anymore."

"So," Hodges said carefully, "you don't want to marry him?"

"No, it's not that. It's… I don't want him to marry me because he has to. If I wasn't pregnant we wouldn't even be considering it. Everything is just happening so fast."

"Listen," he said, touching her gently on the shoulder, "I'm sure if you just tell him…"

Amy looked up at him, surprised he was being so sincere and that he'd stopped so abruptly but he wasn't looking at her.

"What?" Amy started to ask.

As she did, she turned to see for herself just what had caught Dave's attention so completely, but he was already on his feet and blocking her view from the couch.

"Out of the way," said a voice she was certain she'd never hear again.

Amy was up on her feet as quick as was possible; Dave still standing between the two women with no sign of complying with Ortega's demand.

"I've got no problem with you," she continued, "but I will if you don't move out of my way."

"You can't expect…"

"I can expect a lot of things," she interrupted him quickly, leveling the gun at his head.

"Drop it," a new voice said.

* * *

It had been a lucky accident that Charlie had even seen her, and at first he almost didn't believe he had. He was just coming out of Grissom's office as Ortega was going into the break room.

He really almost couldn't believe it, but there was no time to do anything but act.

Charlie had seen enough to know she had a gun, and there could be no good reason for her infiltrating the lab like this. So he did what he had to do. Charlie took out his own gun, an awkward business with only one good arm, and proceeded down the hall as quietly as possible in hopes of surprising her.

And he had, sort of.

"Drop it," he said firmly as he stepped into the doorway, taking in much of the scene quickly.

Amy and Hodges were the only two in the room with Ortega.

Hodges was standing almost directly in front of Amy, blocking Ortega's shot. Charlie stepped into the doorway as Ortega began to move to get a better angle.

"Drop it," she laughed. "You've been watching too many cop movies, Sullivan. You're starting to believe you are one."

Ortega glanced briefly in his direction, still moving further into the room.

They now formed a kind of triangle; Amy, still being sheltered by Hodges in one corner, Ortega in the other, and Charlie at the door.

"Put down the gun," Charlie barked.

"Make me, Sullivan," she said with a sneer, not bothering to look his way.

Charlie knew she'd do it. Knew Ortega would have no problem shooting both Hodges and Amy. She'd rather do that than turn herself in. Either way, she was going to get a shot off. He could wait her out or make the first move.

In the split second he took to make his decision, Ortega made hers.

* * *

As soon as his brain registered gunfire Bobby knew what he had to do.

Catching Mia's attention once more he motioned for her to get down on the floor. She hesitated for only a second but did as he'd instructed.

Grabbing one of his test guns he headed out into the hall.

* * *

Sullivan gave her just enough time to do what she'd wanted to do.

Diane fired off two shots in rapid succession. The first hit the trace tech in the head splashing blood into the air and the second hit Stokes' girlfriend, who had just let out a startled scream.

Both hit the floor at nearly the same time with a loud thud.

It wasn't until she wheeled back towards Sullivan that she realized he'd fired his gun as well, that he'd hit her.

Diane's arm felt like lead, but not her good arm. He'd hit her on the left side, clearly having been aiming for her chest. Lucky for her the angle was bad and he'd struck her upper arm instead.

Sullivan didn't have the same kind of luck on his side.

Before he could get off a second shot she returned fire and watched as he stumbled backwards into the doorframe and than sank to the floor as blood oozed out of his chest.

To his credit, he tried to lift the gun again, tried to stop her but there was nothing more he could do. Sullivan's body was quicker than he was, reacted quicker, and already the shock had set in.

His gun slipped out of his hand as he clutched at the wound.

"Nice try," she said as she stepped over him and out into the hallway.

Diane knew she had to be quick. She had to exit the building as soon as possible and knew the quickest way was through the break room. Anyone she met along the way, well, that wasn't her problem. It was theirs.

"Stop right there," a man's voice yelled from a few rooms down.

"Don't be stupid," Diane said as she turned and faced him.

The ballistics guy whose name she never could remember.

Didn't matter.

If he wanted to be next she'd oblige him.

"Drop the gun," he said, his voice startlingly calm.

"They never learn," she muttered in response as she raised it at him instead.

* * *

Mia had thought at first one of Bobby's tests had gotten out of hand.

When she glanced over and saw him looking as startled as she was by the rapid shots she immediately assumed the worst. That's how she was. And given everything that had been happening around her as of late, she'd be a fool not to assume the worst.

Still, seeing Bobby urge her to take cover was unsettling in the extreme.

But she did it.

Mia ducked under her table and from that moment on all she could do was listen.

In her mind she was replaying it. There had been three, no four shots. Definitely four. The first two very fast, following quickly by the third. The fourth had been a few seconds behind that one and then silence.

The silence was awful.

"Stop right there," she heard Bobby's voice say clearly, nearly outside her lab door.

"Don't be stupid," a woman's voice responded, one that was familiar.

It took as moment to place it but soon Mia remembered. It was the woman who had come into her lab. She was the one doing this. It was her.

"Drop the gun," Bobby said once more, louder this time and clearly unshaken.

Gunfire.

One more shot and the sound of something hitting the ground.

'A body,' Mia thought, her heart racing. 'A body just hit the ground.'

Next there was the sound of footsteps, urgent and hurried and entering the lab.

"Mia?"

Relief washed over her as Bobby said her name.

"You okay?" he asked, coming around to where she still sat huddled on the floor.

"Yes," she answered with a shaky nod of her head. "I am. Are you?"

"Call 9-1-1," he answered. "Tell them…anything… tell them…"

He looked as if he was going to be sick.

"Bobby," Mia said, standing and taking him by the arm. "Are you…"

"I'm fine," he said, pulling himself together. "Just call the police. Now."

Mia nodded and reached for the phone as Bobby walked back outside of the lab, purposely leaving his gun on the countertop.

"9-1-1 what's your emergency?" the woman on the other end said into her ear as soon as they'd connected.

"My name is Mia Dickerson," she said as calmly as she could. "I work at the Clark County Forensics Lab and there's been a shooting."


	23. Fallout

**Ties by SLynn**

**Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes:** Again, I'm sorry about how sporadic I am about updating. I'm trying to get this one done as quickly as I can but it happens as fast (or slow) as it does. Thank you RivenSky and Tripp3235! Enjoy!

**Chapter 23: Fallout**

The dread was hard to contain.

Warrick had his scanner on and the reports were unsettling. First it was five down, then it was four, and then five again. Possible multiple suspects. Possible hostage situation. Possible bomb scare.

Everything seemed possible except for any thing solid, any real news.

They were three blocks away from the lab when an ambulance came screaming past them, lights and sirens blaring as it headed in the opposite direction.

Greg didn't say anything and neither did Warrick, but both of them tensed up at the sight.

The situation felt surreal.

They quickly parked the car and headed towards the scene, searching for anyone they might know.

There were emergency vehicles everywhere nearly surrounding the lab; police cars, ambulances, even a fire engine.

And people.

Greg didn't think that many people had worked there. It was like a madhouse. Cops were taking statements left and right. There were reporters and paramedics. No one seemed to be in charge. No one seemed able of getting the pandemonium in check.

"There they are."

Warrick and Greg both turned at the sound of a familiar voice, both of them relieved to see Catherine rushing towards them.

"We've been trying to reach you both," she said as if she was just keeping her own panic in check. "Dispatch said you'd checked in but given what's happened… I'm just glad to see you."

"What has happened?" asked Warrick. "Was it Ortega? Was it the kidnappers? What's going on, Catherine?"

She let out a huff of frustration, rubbing a free hand through her hair as she shook her head.

"I don't know," she admitted. "They won't let any one in. They won't say who…"

"Do you know who was in the ambulance?" Greg asked.

The look on her face confirmed it. Catherine at least knew that and it wasn't good.

"Greg," she said in such a way that his stomach actually dropped.

"Who was it?" Warrick asked nearly as agitated as Greg.

"It was Amy," said Catherine as she looked at the ground.

"Was she shot?" Greg asked.

"I really don't know, Greg," Catherine answered. "I just saw them taking her out of the building. Hodges was with her…"

"Was he okay? How many people…"

Warrick trailed off too agitated to continue. Instead he just turned and walked a few steps away before coming back again.

"I don't know," Catherine said. "Hodges was walking so…"

"Have you gotten a hold of Nick yet?" Greg asked. "Does he even…"

"No," answered Catherine with a shake of her head. "We've been trying the radio for the last hour. His cell, Sara's cell… No one is picking up."

"You can't reach them at all?" asked Greg as the fear began to kick back in.

"They've got a patrol car on the way," she answered as reassuringly as she could, but knew it would do no good.

For a minute the three of them stood silent amid the chaos around them before Warrick spotted Grissom coming out of the lab.

As soon as the older man caught his eye he headed straight for them.

"Well?" Catherine asked quickly. "What's going on, Gil? Who…"

"It was Diane Ortega," he answered, steering the group to a bit more private spot. "From what Mia and Bobby are saying she was here looking for you and Nick."

Greg wasn't surprised by the revelation. He knew what kind of person she was. Still, he didn't trust himself to speak, not yet, and was thankful when Warrick began to question the circumstances.

"So she didn't find them and what?" he began. "She started shooting up the place?"

"No," Grissom answered. "After that it's pretty clear she targeted Amy."

Greg shook his head and turned his back momentarily on the group.

"Did she get away?" he finally was able to ask.

"She's dead," Grissom returned.

"Good," Greg said in a flat voice.

No one objected with him.

"I'm expecting an update on Amy soon," Grissom continued. "They promised to keep us posted."

"Did Ortega kill herself or…"

"Bobby shot her," Grissom answered before Warrick had finished and that's when he noticed.

Grissom was holding back on them.

"Who else was shot?" Warrick asked directly. "What aren't you telling us?"

"Charlie," Grissom said in an exhausted, almost weary tone. "Charlie was here, spotted Ortega and…"

"Is he…" Greg started to ask but his voice gave out on him.

"It's bad," Grissom confirmed, "but he's alive. They were doing CPR on him when the paramedics arrived and he was stable and breathing when they took him so…"

No one was fooled by the false optimism. If they were doing CPR before the paramedics arrived, it was much worse than Grissom was willing to say.

"Can we go in?" asked Warrick, eager to get the scene processed.

"No," Grissom answered. "Sofia's handling the scene. No one from swings or mids is allowed in. Not now."

"If Ortega is dead…" Catherine started to protest.

"She had help," Greg interrupted quietly. "Someone working in this lab helped do this."

"What hospital were they taken to?" Warrick asked to change the subject.

"UMC," Grissom provided.

"Come on," Warrick said, tapping Greg on the shoulder. "Let's go. We can't do anything here. There might be something we can do there."

Greg thought about it for a split second before nodding in agreement.

* * *

Nick and Sara had been working steadily, regardless of time, finally relieved to have some solid evidence to go on.

True, there wasn't a lot, but still they tried to make the most of it. Some footprints here, a few latent fingerprints there. They could hardly wait to get it back to the lab and have it analyzed. Maybe something here would definitively tie Paul Porter to the crimes, or better still, expose the mole.

Brass watched, helped where he could, but knew that this was their job now. Occasionally he asked a question or two, but mostly he just kept out of their way and observed.

It wasn't until he noticed how late it was getting that he thought to interrupt them, but even before he could do that he heard the familiar 'whoop' of a siren.

Both Nick and Sara looked up at the noise and Brass just nodded and headed for the cave's entrance.

"Probably just checking on us," he commented on his way.

Nick nodded.

Sara didn't say anything having already gone back to the task at hand.

"Detective Brass," the officer called as he got out of his vehicle. "We've been trying your radio and cell…"

"We're fine," interrupted Brass, still convinced this was a routine visit. "The reception out here…"

"Sir," the officer persisted. "There's been a shooting."

"What?" Brass asked, suddenly serious.

"At the lab," he continued. "We've been trying to reach you, all of you. It's serious."

"Who's been shot?"

"Detective Sullivan and two of the technicians."

"Which two?" Brass asked.

The officer paused, his eyes flicking briefly towards the entrance of the cave.

Brass turned and saw Stokes standing there, his eyes full of curiosity.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Brass lied. "Give me a minute here."

Nick didn't look convinced but turned and left just the same.

"Who?" asked Brass, quiet and serious.

"I'm not sure of their names. I was just told two of the techs."

"Do you know which labs?"

"DNA and Trace, I think," the man offered.

Brass sighed in frustration.

DNA.

It was either Amy or Greg. It had to be. Brass had never met two people with worse luck, unless it was Charlie.

"Son of a bitch," he swore just under his breath. "Where are they? Where did they take them?"

"UMC."

"Okay," Brass nodded. "We're heading straight there. I'll check in and we'll go. Thanks."

The other man nodded once and quickly retreated back to his own car as Brass moved towards his. He was on and off the radio as quickly as he could, once more requesting additional information and falling short of an answer.

Pausing to collect his thoughts, to decide exactly what he was going to say and how he'd deliver the news, Brass realized he didn't even know who had done this. Who or why or even if they'd gotten away.

Of course right now that didn't matter. Not really. What did was the fact that he had to go back inside and tell one of his two friends that their loved one had been shot.

Unfortunately he still didn't know which one to tell.

* * *

Greg hadn't realized before how large of a family Charlie came from. The emergency room's waiting area was practically full from his relatives alone. His mother, his father, two of his brothers and three of his sister-in-laws were all there along with a few of his older nieces and nephews. Add to Charlie's family a good number of cops and at least half the lab and the place was packed.

Matt was there of course, but had been drawn off by one of the many doctors running in and out of the place, presumably to discuss Charlie's condition.

So had Karen not more than five minutes after she'd arrived, looking completely frantic and half paralyzed with fear.

The only news that had filtered out was that Hodges was okay. He hadn't rejoined them but from what Greg had heard from Jacqui was that his wound was superficial; that he was just fine and only still being kept as a precaution.

Greg checked his watch and sighed, sinking his head back into his hands and rubbing the back of his head briskly.

"They're on their way," Warrick said softly, knowing already what was on Greg's mind.

He was about to respond when a sudden movement caught his eye from behind the glass partition.

A few nurses were running.

Greg wasn't the only one watching. Half the room turned. Every face clearly etched with worry.

A few curtains were hastily drawn and a door shut but not before they all heard 'code blue' being shouted.

It felt like an eternity.

They all sat waiting in suspended terror until finally a man in scrubs came out again with a grim look on his face.

A few people stood anxiously.

Jacqui clutched Greg's arm unconsciously.

"Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan," he said quietly, turning to Charlie's parents. "I'm very sorry…"

Greg didn't hear the rest.

It couldn't be real, he told himself; it just couldn't.

Maybe he was still asleep. That all of this was one massive nightmare brought on by the sleeping aid Dr. Jennings had prescribed.

Maybe he would wake up any minute now at home and in bed and none of this will have happened.

Greg forced himself to look again, to watch as Charlie's family was ushered, still in shock, to another more private room.

A grieving room.

"Oh, God," he muttered, shaking his head.

It was real.

"Greg," said Warrick as he got to his feet.

Momentarily confused, Greg looked up and took in Warrick's expression.

It was blank. Completely blank.

Turning, Greg saw why and his stomach went cold.

There was another doctor in the doorway and this one was looking towards them.


	24. Optimism

**Ties by SLynn  
****Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC  
**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes:** Anyone still there? Didn't think so. I know it has been forever since I've put up a chapter, and I am sorry. I am trying my hardest to rebel against canon and get this done, but it's a lot to rebel against. I'm not giving up! I'm going to try and finish this, and with it the series, but don't count on anything too soon. Thanks for reading and encouraging me to continue. Thanks to RivenSky and Tripp3235 for all of the help. Enjoy!

**Chapter 24: Optimism**

They still didn't know.

The ride back into town was torturous. Neither Sara nor Nick could speak. Both of them feared the worst, assumed it had already taken place.

Confirmation came less than ten miles from the hospital, at least in part.

Charlie was dead.

They heard it on the news broadcast on the radio. An officer killed in a shoot out inside the Las Vegas crime lab. Three others wounded, including the suspect. One of those three in critical condition, one treated and released with minor injuries and one dead.

All of it right there on the radio for everyone to hear.

Horrifying and detailed, but not enough; not nearly detailed enough.

The names were being held until their families could be notified.

Sara cringed at the thought, at the very idea of Greg's parents getting another phone call like that. Another message telling them their son was hurt, dying, or even…

She shook the thought from her head and wiped away the few tears that had fallen.

'It might not be Greg', she reminded herself, 'it might be…'

Shaking her head harder this time, Sara stared out the window and forced that thought out as well. She'd been close to thinking it, actually wishing it. Part of her wanted it to be Amy and not Greg, for it to be anyone other than Greg, and Sara hated that part of her.

Brass finally stopped the car and for a nearly a full minute no one moved.

"Come on," Brass finally said, exiting and waiting for Nick and Sara to do the same.

Brass led the way, flashing his badge at a uniformed officer just inside the main entrance.

"Is it true?" he stopped to ask. "Sullivan?"

"Yes, sir," the woman said with a slight nod. "Captain Sullivan wanted to speak to you if you have a moment."

"Sure," Brass agreed.

Walter Sullivan, Charlie's father, hadn't been retired long and was a man Jim knew well and respected. It wasn't a conversation he looked forward to having, but knew it had to be done. Walter would want to know everything he could about his son's death and do everything he could to bring in the people responsible.

"What about…" Sara started to ask but couldn't finish.

"Everyone else has gone up to the ICU," the woman provided. "It's on the third floor."

"Do you know what's happened?" Brass asked for both Nick and Sara's sake.

"I'm sorry," was the reply.

"Will you two be okay?" asked Brass, motioning that he meant to have that talk with the retired detective now.

Sara nodded but Nick couldn't even do that; he just continued to look on mutely.

Taking the lead, Sara started off towards the elevators with Nick just behind her. Once inside it felt as if the doors would never shut, and when they finally did, it felt as if they'd never open again.

Everything was moving so slowly.

Stepping out onto the third floor, Sara once more took the lead, following a few signs and taking several turns before finally finding the reception desk.

Her throat was so dry she couldn't even speak; it felt clenched up entirely. Luckily, all she had to do was show her identification and the nurse nodded with a morose look and pointed them both to the waiting room.

As soon as they entered the room Sara felt her legs go numb.

Not too far away with their backs to them were three people; Warrick on the left, Hodges on the right, and Amy in the middle.

Sara felt Nick place a hand on her shoulder, knowing she needed the extra support without having to say a word.

Hodges, his head fairly bandaged up, turned just then with an expression on his face of absolute dread.

Sara watched, stunned, as he leaned in and said something to Amy, who immediately turned around with tears streaming down her face.

And that was it. That was when the realization hit Sara hard.

She'd been wrong, so completely wrong. It wasn't Amy standing there, it was Karen.

Nick wasn't offering Sara support, he needed the support for himself.

She didn't know what to do.

Fortunately, Sara didn't have to do anything. Before she was even aware of what was happening, there was a buzz of activity as Warrick, Karen and Hodges all joined them, filling them in on details and talking so fast it hurt her head to listen.

Nick didn't seem to be catching any of it either; he just seemed lost.

Sara took a small step backwards as the rest of the group sat down, surprised when she ran against someone else.

She turned to apologize and had to fight down a gasp, but couldn't stop the few tears that escaped at the sight of Greg standing there, perfectly safe.

"Sorry," he muttered, touching her shoulder gently. "I wasn't trying to sneak up on you."

Sara could only alternate between nods and shakes of her head, completely unable to articulate anything at that moment. She hadn't really believed he was okay until now. Not until she'd seen him for herself. And now that she had seen him, she remembered. Greg was never in any danger, not at the lab at least.

He'd been on medical leave. He hadn't even been there. In her confusion and panic she'd completely forgotten.

"Let's get out of here for a minute," Greg said, nodding quickly to Warrick as he steered Sara away.

They walked the halls for several minutes in silence, Greg's arm around her shoulders, until finally Sara found her voice.

"Greg," she said, her voice still a near strangled sob, "what happened? How…"

"I don't…" he started to say, finally breaking contact with her and taking a few steps away.

Greg shook his head, looking at the floor and rubbing the palms of his hands against his eyes.

Finally, taking a deep breath and steeling himself, he began.

"Ortega broke out and got into the lab," said Greg. "She was looking for Nick and me. When she found out we weren't there…"

He couldn't finish.

Sara moved to wrap her arms around him, to pull him into an embrace, but Greg shrugged her off. He didn't want to be touched, or held, or comforted; he didn't think he deserved it.

"I should have been there," Greg said firmly. "I should have been at that lab when this all happened and then…"

"She'd have killed you," Sara cut in angrily.

"She should have," he retorted. "She should have. Better me than Charlie. She nearly killed Hodges and Bobby too. And Amy, God, what… How can I…"

"This isn't your fault," Sara tried to reason. "You couldn't have known…"

"But if I'd been there they wouldn't…"

"Do you think your friends would have just let her kill you without trying to stop it? That they'd have just stepped aside?"

"But…"

"No," Sara interrupted. "No buts. It is not your fault she did this. None of this…"

Greg didn't answer and Sara knew she hadn't gotten through to him. Not yet at least.

For several minutes there was nothing but silence between them.

"How bad is it?" asked Sara, resolved to know the worst at once.

Greg looked over at her clearly puzzled.

"Amy."

Greg nodded in understanding.

"It's… it's bad," he said. "They don't think… She's alive. Right now, she's alive and…"

He trailed off with a shrug, near tears and unable to say any more about it.

"Ortega?" Sara asked, having to know.

"Bobby shot her," Greg confirmed with a somber nod. "She's dead. I just got off the phone with Grissom. He's at the lab with Sofia and Catherine. Bobby apparently saw what had happened and confronted her in the hall after she'd already shot… He tried to get her to just turn herself in but she wouldn't so he did what he had to do."

"How did she even get into the lab?" Sara asked in disbelief.

"I don't know," Greg answered. "They're checking into it. Interviewing the new receptionist. Judy wasn't in the office when it happened. It's just all… It's…"

"Does Grissom think this is it?" Sara asked quietly. "That this is what the kidnappings were about? A distraction?"

"He wouldn't tell me," answered Greg, looking away with an uncharacteristically sour expression.

"Hey guys," Warrick called out from behind them, just down the hall. "The doctor just pulled in Nick and Karen for an update. We should know something new soon."

Sara nodded, taking several steps towards him before noticing Greg hadn't moved at all.

"We'll be there in a minute," Sara told Warrick, turning back to Greg as Warrick continued on without them.

"You coming?" she asked as gently as she could.

Greg didn't answer.

"What if…" he finally began to say, but couldn't finish.

"Come on," Sara urged, taking him by the hand and pulling him along. "It'll be alright. I'm sure…"

But she couldn't finish either. She didn't want to lie.

* * *

The steady pressure of Karen's hand in his was the only thing Nick could concentrate on. It was the only thing that made any sense at the moment. The only thing that felt real.

This couldn't be happening.

The doctor had come out and requested Karen and Nick retreat to his office for a more private conversation. All Nick could think was that it couldn't be good news then. It just couldn't.

They give good news in the front room, bad news in the back.

No sooner then they sat down the doctor began, but Nick hardly heard a word of it. It was only when he heard him say that Amy was out of any immediate danger that he felt like he could breathe again.

But of course that wasn't it.

If that had been everything the doctor would have told them in the waiting room.

"We're monitoring the baby very closely," he continued with a somber air. "So far we're optimistic, but you need to be aware of the possibility that she may have to deliver early."

"What?" Karen asked, alarmed. "It's too soon. She's only twenty-nine weeks."

"She's had a severe shock to the system," the doctor continued to explain. "She's already showing signs of labor. We are doing everything we can to deter it, and so far we've been successful, but there is only so much we can do."

"Does she know?" Nick asked. "Is she awake yet? Has she heard any…"

Nick trailed off, burying his head in his hands.

"No," the doctor answered. "She should be awake soon. It might be best if one of you were with her when we break the news."

"But it can be alright, right?" asked Karen, trying to sound hopeful. "She hasn't gone into labor yet and she might not. She could still carry the baby to term."

"True," the doctor acknowledged with a nod, "but it's better if she is prepared for the worst. She needs to know what could happen, all of you do. I know none of this is easy to hear, but you need to understand all of the possibilities."

"So what is going to happen?" Nick had to ask.

"She'll be taken to the maternity wing and placed under observation. She'll need to spend the remainder of her pregnancy here, being monitored. If the labor persists, if her water breaks, we'll have no choice but to take the baby. As I've said, we're optimistic. At twenty-nine weeks she'll have a good chance, but we'd like to give her a better one."


	25. Blame

**Ties by SLynn  
****Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC  
**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes: **Not to jinx this, but I think I may have found my place in this again! Thanks for the encouragement, and reading, and to RivenSky and Tripp3235 for the help!

**Chapter 25: Blame**

They'd sat in the waiting room for well over an hour, Brass having joined them briefly only to be called away again, before hearing anything new.

Finally Karen came out of the ward, her face a mask of grief.

"How is she?" Hodges asked, having reached her first; nearly everyone had gotten to their feet as soon as she'd been recognized.

"Sleeping," she answered, looking about her in a semi-daze. "She's still asleep."

"What did the doctor say?" asked Warrick.

"I don't…" Karen began, but stopped to rub her forehead in a distracted gesture. "He said a lot… mostly we just need to wait. Amy had some pretty bad bleeding and some broken… I need to call my parents. Can you… I just need…"

"Yeah," Warrick said quickly, taking her by the arm and steering her through the crowd. "We'll go to the phone. Take a break. Alright?"

Karen nodded, shutting her eyes for a moment in an effort to hold back her tears.

As soon as they had left, Hodges turned to Sara and Greg.

"How bad do you think it is?"

"How bad did it look when she was brought in?" Sara asked, knowing Hodges had been with Amy at the time.

"There was a lot of blood," Hodges answered after a slight pause. "Mia and I tried to stop as much as we could before the paramedics got to the lab, but it didn't seem… She woke up in the ambulance but was in a lot of pain… I don't think she was hit anywhere vital. I don't know."

"What about you? Are you okay?" Sara asked indicating his bandaged head.

"This?" Hodges returned, trying to sound unconcerned. "This is nothing but a scratch. I'm lucky she has such…"

Hodges stopped cold, seeming to realize what he was about to say, and turned his back to them abruptly.

"It's probably the baby," Jacqui mused out loud. "Shock. God."

"How far along is she now?" asked Sara.

"Twenty-seven weeks, I think," the other woman returned.

"Twenty-nine," Greg and Hodges corrected in near unison.

"She can't have the baby, yet, can she?" Sara questioned.

"Might not have a choice," Jacqui provided.

"I've… I've got to go," Greg said suddenly, shaking his head and walking toward the exit at a rapid pace.

"Wait," Sara called after him, catching him just outside the door. "Go? Where? Where can you possibly have to be that --"

"I can't stay here," Greg interrupted in a rush. "I can't. My skin is crawling, okay? I can't sit here and watch and wait and not do… I have to do something."

"Do something," Sara repeated. "Do what? Greg, there's nothing we can do right now."

"I know," he fired back as he looked at the floor, "and it's just making it worse. I can't just sit here. I can't."

"So we'll take a walk," Sara suggested. "We'll walk a few times around the hospital and…"

"Sara," Greg interrupted once more, still talking a mile a minute, "I really think I need to be alone right now. It's a lot. It's a whole lot and I'm not… I just need some time to let this all kind of sink in before I can deal with it. With any of it."

"Okay," she said, trying hard to keep the hurt out of her voice. "If that's what you need. How long…"

"Not long," he cut in, sounding a bit ashamed. "Not long, I promise. I just need to pull myself together. That's it. I'm sorry…"

Sara nodded and gave him as much of a smile as she could manage. Greg nodded and then turned and left, walking so quickly down the corridor that he was soon out of sight.

* * *

Nick sat in the dimly lit room holding Amy's hand and waiting.

Karen had just left, reluctantly, to inform her parents of what was happening. The realization hit her as they'd been sitting there that they were still in the dark about the whole situation. Nick offered to call for her but Karen declined either because she thought she might handle it better or that it would be easier to accept coming from her.

Nick didn't argue with her; he couldn't. He was dreading coming face-to-face with Amy's mother Lynn again. No doubt she would blame him.

Not that Nick didn't think he deserved it.

The only thing Nick could think about now was that if he'd only listened to Greg none of this would have happened.

This whole time Nick thought he'd been doing the right thing by allowing the plea; that he'd been doing the right thing by not putting them all through a trial; but he'd been so wrong.

Greg must have known. He must have known that she'd try something like this. That Ortega would find a way to get even, to escape and make them all pay.

It wasn't fair.

This was all his fault and he should be the one to pay, not Amy or Charlie.

Not their daughter.

Nick buried his head in his hands, looking up only when he felt Amy stirring in her bed.

"Hi," he said, trying his best to sound upbeat.

"When did you get here?" she asked, still clearly not herself.

"Not too long ago," he answered, still trying hard to smile but mostly it came out as a grimace. "How do you feel?"

"Sleepy," Amy said, turning to look around the room. "Am I in the hospital?"

Nick, his throat suddenly too tight to speak, only nodded. He could see in her eyes as the events of the afternoon all caught up with her. He squeezed her hand tightly as she once more looked around the room, this time with tears in her eyes.

"Dave and Charlie," she said, her voice cracking as she spoke. "Where are they? What… I can't remember…"

"Don't worry about them right now," Nick tried, but Amy wasn't about to let it go.

"What happened to them?" she repeated, louder this time.

"Dave is fine," Nick finally relented. "He's here still in the waiting room. He rode in with you."

"And Charlie?" she asked.

"Amy, you need to calm…"

"What happened?" she demanded.

"He… He didn't make it, Amy," Nick finally conceded. "I'm sorry. I'm…"

Amy covered half her face with her free hand, the other still being held tight by Nick.

"Did they catch her?" she asked shakily. "Did they…"

"You don't have to worry about her anymore," Nick said firmly.

Amy nodded, taking the statement at face value.

For a time, neither of them spoke. Amy turned her face to the window, a few tears sliding down her face, seemingly bracing herself for what might come next.

"Was anyone else…" she began, still looking away and unable to finish the question.

"No," answered Nick, glad that there was at least that positive bit of news.

He watched as Amy took a better look at her surroundings. As she noted the machines beside her, the IVs, the fetal monitor strapped to her stomach.

"And the baby?" she asked, her voice so soft he had barely heard her.

"Maybe I should call the doctor and let him --"

"No," she cut in sharply. "Tell me. Whatever they told you, tell me. I'd rather just know now…"

"She's going to be fine," Nick said with as much confidence as he could muster.

Right now he knew that he had to be strong, to show her that he wasn't afraid so that she wouldn't be.

"But…"

"It's precautionary," he interrupted, knowing what she was about to say.

"Then why can't I hear the heartbeat?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes. "I know how these work, Nick. My mom's an OB, remember? You can always hear the monitors. Always."

"They turned it down," Nick insisted, getting up and going to the machine. Turning it so that she could see it as well. "See. They just turned down the volume so that you could rest. That's it. I swear."

Amy nodded, watching the screen with interest. Seeing for herself that Nick was indeed telling her the truth. There was the heartbeat, strong and steady, displayed at the bottom.

Running a hand across her stomach she felt the baby kick and tentatively smiled up at Nick.

"It's going to be alright," he reassured her.

But Amy's face had fallen again as she had begun to stare at the monitor once more.

"What?" Nick asked. "What's wrong? Are you…"

Amy shook her head impatiently before pointing to the monitor in disbelief.

"What is it?" asked Nick, looking as well this time.

"Am I having contractions?"

* * *

Sighing, Sara returned to the waiting room to Jacqui and Hodges curious expressions.

"He's fine," Sara lied halfheartedly. "He just needed a few minutes alone."

"Can't blame him," Jacqui returned. "As close as he is to Charlie and Amy. It's all happened so fast…"

Sara only nodded and then tried to turn the subject.

"Where is everyone? I expected this place to be…"

"They've been in and out," Jacqui said as the three of them each took a seat. "Ecklie was here until they brought Amy up. Archie is still at the lab, they've got him pulling tapes. Mia and Bobby are still being questioned, I imagine. They questioned us here."

"Bobby's the one that did it then?" Sara asked, unable to stop investigating despite herself.

"Yeah," Jacqui answered. "I don't know what would have happened if he hadn't of been there. Kept his head and he was about the only one. Of course, you don't expect that to happen at the lab or anywhere, do you? But Bobby was very collected."

"Shock," Hodges added. "I'd gone into shock. Bobby saw I was alright and then snapped at me to help Amy. I don't think I'd ever heard him snap at anyone before. Mia joined me soon after and Jacqui…"

"Bobby had me help him with Charlie. He never had a chance."

Sara closed her eyes and bowed her head, thankful she hadn't had to witness the scene firsthand; it sounded like a nightmare.

It felt like a nightmare.

No one spoke again until Warrick returned with Karen. Instead of taking a seat with them, Warrick led Karen back to the door of the ward first. As soon as she was inside he made his way back, sitting down and sighing heavily.

"Well?" Hodges asked.

"Amy's okay," Warrick confirmed. "Their big concern is the baby right now. She went into labor, but the doctors were able to stall it. They're doing everything they can but Karen doesn't sound very optimistic about it."

"Her parents on their way?" asked Jacqui.

"Yeah," Warrick answered. "They're getting on the first plane they can."

"Can we see her?" Sara asked.

"No," Warrick said. "Just family right now. Karen said maybe after Amy wakes up, but not until they know more about the baby."

"That makes sense," Jacqui said with a short nod.

"Where's Greg?" Warrick asked, lifting his head slightly and looking around the room having just noticed the other man was missing.

"He needed to get out of here for awhile," Sara explained. "He shouldn't be gone long."

Warrick fixed Sara with a stern look.

"What?" she asked.

"He didn't leave the hospital, did he?"

"No," she answered quickly. "He just said he wanted to take a walk."

"You're sure?"

"Yes," Sara returned, growing irritated. "Where would he --"

Sara paused, mentally replaying the conversation in her mind: the tempo of Greg's words; the restless fidgeting; the way he hadn't been able to meet her eyes.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered, getting to her feet and taking out her phone.

"What?" Jacqui asked sounding concerned.

"He lied," Sara said, shaking her head as she put the phone to her ear. "He lied to me about where he was going and now…"

She trailed off as she heard not only Greg's phone ringing in her ear, but in the waiting room as well.

"And he dumped his phone," Sara continued angrily as she shut her cell and picked up the ringing one a few seats away.

"Calm down," Warrick said as he held up his hands. "I'm sure he just went back to the lab. Greg didn't want to leave in the first place, that's probably where he is."

Sara looked as if she wanted to believe that, but couldn't quite do it.

She was mad, but she was also worried.

Greg hadn't been himself lately. He hadn't been taking his medication, or sleeping, or thinking straight for weeks. That and he had lost a close friend today and another close friend was still in the hospital; it was too much. Add to it the guilt Greg himself had admitted to feeling and Sara was very, very worried.

"Let's go see," Warrick suggested, taking Sara by the elbow. "We'll drive over to the lab and take a look. I'm sure he's there, Sara."

Sara nodded and made toward the exit hoping he was right.


	26. Loose Ends

**Ties by SLynn  
****Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC  
**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes:** Thanks to my wonderful betas RivenSky and Tripp3235, who help keep me writing. Thanks to everyone _still_ reading this and for all the great reviews. Soon, it may be done!

**Chapter 26: Loose Ends**

Sofia was headed out of the interview room, having finally finished up getting Bobby Dawson's side of the story, walking a brisk pace and trying to stay focused.

It was so overwhelming.

She knew she had to take it all one step at a time, that if they started jumping forward too quickly they might miss something valuable.

She also knew that this wasn't over yet.

Brass had called and told her the bad news; Paul Porter was dead.

He had been their only link left in this mess of a case and now he was dead.

Just like Mitch Anderson, it had been staged to look like a suicide, but no one believed it.

Replaying it all again and again in her mind, reconnecting the dots to this twisted puzzle, Sofia just could not get the loose ends to tie up: the kidnappings, the murders, the break out, the lab.

How did it fit?

Shaking her head and realizing she was already doing what she told her self she wouldn't, jumping too far ahead, Sofia pushed open the door to the AV room and greeted an exhausted looking Archie with a wan smile.

"So?" she asked, taking a seat beside him.

"Okay," Archie sighed, shifting in his chair as he queued up the tape. "I've pieced it together in order using the different cameras here in the lab and the time logs. Ready?"

Sofia nodded briskly.

"This is her," Archie said, advancing the tape that showed a dark haired woman entering the building. "You can see she heads straight for the back but is stopped by… um… I don't know her name yet…"

"The receptionist," Sofia nodded. She knew this part. They'd interviewed her already.

"They talked for a bit," Archie continued. "The, um, audio was bad. I'm working on it still, but it looks as if she talked her way in somehow or other because she just lets her go."

Sofia nodded again. Ortega had been carrying a badge, Sara's old badge to be exact. They'd found it on her. It had been doctored with a fairly recent picture of Ortega, but that wasn't the half of it. The roster had also been switched out with a previous version so Sara Sidle, not Sara Sanders, was still in the books.

"Can you get me all the video for the twenty-four hours leading up to this time?" Sofia asked.

"Yeah," Archie answered right away, even if he thought it was an odd request. "Why..."

"No particular reason," Sofia cut in, not wanting to tip anyone off further about their mole problem. "What happened next?"

"Okay," he went on. "Next she goes inside, down the hall and straight into the DNA lab."

"Look at her face," Sofia whispered, leaning in as Archie paused the tape.

"I saw that," Archie returned. "She looked surprised."

"Like she was expecting someone else to be there."

Sofia stared at the screen for a moment longer before finally urging Archie on again.

"She talks with Mia and then looks around," supplied Archie. "Sorry, no audio at all inside the lab but you can still see what's going on."

"Alright."

"Then she heads to the break room."

Sofia and Archie both watched the remainder of the video in silence.

"What about the rest of the lab?" Sofia asked. "Do you have footage of anyone that seems out of the ordinary?"

"Nothing I've seen, but I've only really been searching the areas where we knew something occurred."

"Do me a favor and get all the tapes together," Sofia said. "I'll need at least two hours before the event until two hours after, all of them; every camera."

"Okay," Archie said with a nod. "It'll take some time but I'll do it right away."

"Thanks," Sofia returned, standing to go.

Moving back down the hallway, careful to avoid the crime scene that Grissom and Catherine were still combing through, Sofia instead headed to the back part of the building, to the lesser used layout rooms.

Passing the first one, she almost didn't believe her eyes.

Turning and coming back to it, she shook her head angrily before entering the room and shutting the door behind her.

"What in the hell are you doing here?"

"Going over the case," Greg answered without looking up from the papers before him.

"Going over the case?" Sofia repeated incredulously. "Greg, you're not on this case anymore. You can't be on this case. You're a part of this case."

"There's something here, something connecting these people that we're not seeing."

"Are you listening to me?"

"If we can just see how they connect then we'll know who the mole is and who…"

"Go home Greg," said Sofia tersely.

"I can't."

"Then go back to the hospital."

"I can't do that either."

Sofia took a deep breath, exhaling a lot of her anger.

"Listen," she said, calmer now than before, "I know this isn't easy for you. It hasn't been easy for any of us. And I know you just want to help, but Greg, you can't help with this case anymore. You are too close to it, too involved already."

"You don't understand."

"Maybe I don't," she admitted. "So make me understand."

Greg finally met her eyes and shrugged. Sofia was startled to see how tired he looked, how completely worn down he seemed to be.

"I just want to know what's happening," Greg said quietly. "I want to know that something is being done to find…"

"Everything we can do is being done," Sofia assured him.

"But there's nothing solid yet, is there?"

"Not yet."

"What about Porter?" he asked. "He knew all the victims, right? He's got to be involved in this; maybe even running it."

"He's dead," Sofia said calmly.

He didn't react.

Greg only looked back at the three piles of paper before him and felt useless.

The only person they had that was linked to the kidnappings was dead; their only shot at finding out who it was helping Ortega and masterminding the whole operation.

"What about Anderson?" Greg asked, half hopeful and half fearful. "He wanted to talk to me. He wanted…"

"Greg," Sofia said, shaking her head slowly.

"When?"

"Last night."

"That's just… that's…"

Greg could hardly speak he was so angry.

"Anderson, Ortega and Porter," he said as he got to his feet, pacing angrily before the table where all of the case files were laid out. "All of them? Dead. That's…. That's…"

Greg let out a grunt of frustration before sweeping the contents of the table onto the floor.

Sofia got to her feet, backing away quickly as she shook her head.

"There's no one left then, is there? No one else to go to!"

"Calm down, Greg."

Greg walked up and down the room a few more times before finally stopping to rub his hands over his face.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"It's alright."

"No, it's not. I just… It can't end like this. We have to…"

"We will," Sofia said reassuringly, crossing to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "We will, but you've just got to give it some time."

"Yeah," he said halfheartedly as he bent down to begin the clean up process.

"Let me get these," Sofia said, joining him in the effort. "Why don't you go back to the hospital?"

"I don't think…"

"Go on," Sofia urged. "Your friends need you."

"Are you sure?" Greg asked, gesturing at the mess spread out around them.

"Yes," she smiled in return. "I've picked up papers before. Besides, I don't think Ecklie would be too happy to see you here."

"Or Grissom. Or Catherine," Greg provided. "I know."

"So?" she asked.

"I'm going," he said as he opened the door.

"Good. Call me when you get there."

"Fine," Greg said, too tired to argue. "And thanks."

"Go already."

Greg gave her a weak smile before shutting the door and heading off towards the garage.

Sofia watched him go before taking out her phone to call Sara and let her know that Greg was on his way back. Sara sounded relieved to hear the news and promised to call when Greg arrived. She knew she was probably being overly cautious, that Greg was probably headed straight back to the hospital, but that didn't stop her from being concerned.

Given that all of this had been a ploy to get at Greg and Nick, Sofia was actually surprised that they hadn't been assigned security details.

But there hadn't been time to dwell on it; there was still so much to do.

After straightening up the files and returning them to their rightful places, Sofia got back to work.

Heading back to the AV lab she was pleased to see that Archie had already gathered quite a few videos for her to watch. It was slow and dull work, but necessary. They had to make sure nothing and no one out of the ordinary was in the building before the shooting.

Unaware of time, Sofia kept at the task until her phone rang. Taking a quick peak at the clock she was surprised to see that several hours had already gone by.

"Curtis," she said into her phone as she answered it.

"Sofia," Sara said on the other end. "Has Greg left yet?"

"What do you mean?" Sofia asked, pausing the tape and sitting up straighter. "I called you when he left."

"And he said he was coming here? To the hospital?"

"Yes," Sofia said, the slight panic in her voice catching Archie's attention. "To the hospital. He hasn't shown up?"

"No," returned Sara, sounding more than slightly panicked. "Warrick and I were heading to the lab when you called. We came back here to wait and…"

"Did you try his phone?"

"He left it here."

Sofia shook her head in disbelief.

"What about your house? Did you call home?"

"I'll do that next."

"I'll double check the lab," Sofia said. "He may still be here; maybe he got sidetracked with Catherine or Grissom."

"Yeah," Sara agreed.

"What time did he leave?" Archie whispered to Sofia, trying not to disturb her conversation too much.

"About two hours ago," Sofia returned.

Archie nodded and turned back to his consol in a hurry.

"I'm sure he's fine, Sara," Sofia said. "Two hours isn't long in Vegas. He could still be in traffic."

"I hope so."

"I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything."

"Same here," Sara said before quickly saying goodbye.

Sofia shut her phone before getting back to her feet.

"I'll be right back," she told Archie. "I told Sara I'd…"

"No need," Archie interrupted, waving her over with a hand. "I found him. Two hours ago, I've got Greg in the garage on tape."

Sofia took a few steps closer and leaned in to the screen.

"Who is that?"

"I can't tell," Archie said, squinting for a better look. "Must be someone he knows. Look."

Sofia watched as Greg, who had been heading toward his own car suddenly stopped, turned around and walked back toward the unknown person.

"Does this have audio?" Sofia asked.

"No. None of the cameras in the garage do."

Sofia watched as Greg and the person had what appeared to be a regular conversation and then both of them continued on to Greg's car, climbed inside and left.

"Any other cameras in the garage? Anything…"

"Hold on," Archie said, already pulling up different feeds. "There is a better camera at the exit. Better resolution, color, all of that. We should get a good view of the car."

Sofia nodded and watched as Archie began rewinding two hours worth of footage.

"Do I want to know what this is about?" he asked quite seriously.

"Probably not."

"Okay then," he finished. "Greg's car is right… there."

Archie paused the scene, zooming in on the front of the vehicle so that the two occupants were clearly visible inside.

"What's Greg doing with…"

Sofia shook her head in disbelief.

"Wrong question," she said slowly. "Not what, but why?"

Archie turned to look at her, the question almost asked, but Sofia was too quick.

Moving in she tapped the screen three times in one spot.

"Not what," she repeated, "but why? Why does Tess have a gun on Greg?"


	27. Edge of Panic

**Ties by SLynn  
****Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC  
**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'  
**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Chapter 27: Edge of Panic**

"How in the hell did this happen?"

Sofia couldn't think of any response to Ecklie's outburst, not altogether surprised it was directed at her. He had pretty much been nonstop with the accusations from the moment she'd notified him of the situation.

"I don't… I…" she began to stammer, hating that she couldn't even get three words out.

"After everything that has happened you just let --"

"I didn't just let him go," Sofia snapped, finally finding her voice. "We were all told, by you and the sheriff, that if Greg came back here we were to see him out again."

"Exactly," he snapped back. "Escort. Escort, Sofia. With everything that's happened --"

"With everything that's happened the sheriff should have put a man with him," Catherine interrupted.

"The sheriff has enough on his plate already," Ecklie half-heartedly defended. "What with Detective Sullivan and the media. They're eating him alive already. Do you know how this looks? What this is going to come off like?"

"Oh, that's great," Catherine sighed, throwing her hands up. "It's an election year so, of course, the number one concern…"

"The number one concern is what it has always been," Ecklie said firmly, "the people in his county and especially in his employ. There's already an APB out on Sanders' car. There are patrols checking…"

"Checking where?" Catherine asked angrily. "Where are they checking, Conrad? Around the block? Do you think she took him off, at gunpoint, for dinner down the street?"

"Calm down, Catherine," Grissom said, finally speaking; feeling the need to try and reign in some semblance of order. "Everything that can be done is being done."

Sofia drew a hand up to her eyes at that, acutely aware that that was exactly what she'd told Greg hours earlier.

"What do we know for certain?" Grissom asked once he was confident no one was going to start yelling again.

"Tess ambushed Greg in the garage just before nine," Sofia answered, still able to see the footage playing in her mind's eye. "There was no struggle so he either didn't suspect her until after they were in the car or…"

"Or he didn't put up a fight," Catherine finished.

"Our next sighting of them was at the garage exit," continued Sofia, her voice brisk and to the point. "We can tell that from there they headed east and then nothing."

"Okay," Grissom said, already formulating a plan, "traffic lights."

"What?" asked Ecklie, looking very much as if he thought Grissom might be losing his mind.

"Traffic lights," the other man repeated. "We need to get the video from all the traffic lights east of here, starting with the first intersection east of the garage."

"If they caught his car we might get a better idea of where they were headed," Catherine said with a nod, catching on to Grissom's plan.

"That's a lot of footage," Sofia added, feeling slightly dejected that this was the best idea they had. "Nine o'clock, this close to the strip. That's not just a lot of footage, it's a lot of cars."

"It's a start," Grissom said hopefully.

"Okay," Ecklie said, agreeing readily, taking out his phone to start making it happen and momentarily stepping out of the room.

"So," Catherine went on, "what else?"

"What else do we know?" Grissom answered with his own question.

"Beside the fact that Tess Bates is our mole?" returned Catherine. "Not much."

"How does Tess fit in to this?" the man asked, looking to the two women before him.

"She doesn't," said Catherine. "If she did, we'd have found it. She didn't know any of the kidnapping victims. Not a one. It just doesn't make any sense. I could understand it if she was somehow connected, but she's not. She's just not. And you know, right now, it doesn't matter. We need to find her and Greg before…"

"It does matter," Grissom said after a lengthy pause. "Until we understand why she's done this, we can't begin to guess where she might be."

"How about her house?" Catherine argued. "Or the spot the kidnappers were keeping their victims? How about we just start looking."

"We are," Grissom said as reassuringly as possible. "We already are."

"I just can't believe it," Catherine spat out. "Tess Bates. Tess. She was… I trusted her."

"We all did," Sofia said quietly.

"How long has she been here now?" Catherine asked, unable to let it go so easily.

"A few months," Grissom confirmed. "She transferred from Los Angeles."

For a moment there was silence and then something clicked.

"L.A.?" Catherine repeated slowly. "Isn't that where Anderson was from?"

"That could be where she knew him from," Grissom returned with a nod. "She never talked much about her old life, but then again…"

He trailed off in a shrug, which both women knew meant that Grissom didn't talk much about anything outside of the lab to begin with.

"Okay," Ecklie said as he reentered the room. "The footage is on its way and two deputies are on their way over to UMC. One is going to stay with Amy and Nick, just in case, and the other is going to bring Sara back to the lab."

"Oh God," Sofia groaned. "Is that how she's going to find out? Shouldn't one of us… I should call. I should go. I…"

"No," Grissom said, "I'll go."

"No," Ecklie said firmly. "I will. I was already planning too; the deputy is going to meet me out front. I need the three of you on this; you're the best we've got. Keep me up to date on any new developments and if there is anything you need, call me."

With that Ecklie hurried out the door leaving the three of them alone again.

"So," Catherine continued hesitantly, "we know nothing about Tess' motivations or possible actions. What do we know about Greg?"

Grissom took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, clearly frustrated.

They knew Greg was overworked, overtaxed and on the edge. They knew that, in all probability, he had willingly left with someone bent on causing him harm. They knew that Greg had lied about his actions prior to the encounter and that he did not have any means of communication with him at the time.

In short, they knew nothing, absolutely nothing.

* * *

"Relax," Nick said again, the word had lost all meaning with its repeated use. "Please, Amy, you've got to relax."

"I'm trying," she bit back. "I am, but how am I supposed to relax when all of this… When everything…"

"Just try," Karen urged, taking hold of her older sister's hand. "You have to."

Amy took a deep breath and shut her eyes, still clearly not at ease.

"Everything is fine," Nick promised. "You heard the doctor, the contractions are slowing down. More importantly, your water hasn't broke so…"

Amy nodded, knowing he was right. Still, it was hard not to panic; not to think the worse at a moment like this.

"I'm sorry," Amy said softly. "I am… It's just, with everything… I… I…"

Tears started to slide down her face and Amy made no attempt to stop them. She was tired, scared, angry and upset. None of this should be happening. It wasn't fair. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

"It's alright," Karen said, throwing an arm around her and squeezing her tightly. "It's going to be alright."

"Everyone keeps saying that," Amy said with a brutal shake of her head, "but you don't know. Charlie… the baby… I'm just…"

Nick leaned in and kissed the top of her head, knowing he had to do something to calm her down now. Amy was only going to make the problem worse by getting this worked up over it. He knew why she was, he couldn't blame her for her reaction, but it wasn't helping. It wasn't helping at all.

"I'm going to get the doctor," he said quietly, standing up and crossing the room quickly.

Karen nodded at him in agreement, thinking that Amy might need some kind of sedative now that the initial shock of the whole situation was obviously wearing off.

Amy didn't say anything for or against the idea, only continued to cry.

Nick gave them both one last look before heading out into the hall in search of someone in charge. He wasn't really sure if they could give Amy anything, not given her state, but he had to go and ask. She couldn't go on like this.

Nick rounded the corner on his way to the main desk where he was surprised to see Warrick and an officer there waiting.

"What's going on?" Nick asked as he approached the two of them.

"This him?" the officer asked Warrick, who nodded in return. "Nick Stokes, I'm Officer Cabott. I've been assigned to watch over you and Ms. Chen."

"Watch over?" Nick repeated, looking from one to the other. "What for? I thought that this was over. That Ortega…"

"It wasn't just Ortega," Warrick said. "She had an accomplice and until they're found, you and Amy might be in danger."

"Do we know any more?" Nick continued to question. "Do we know who?"

Warrick shifted uneasy as Officer Cabott shook his head.

"Don't worry," he said, "I've got everything under control. No one is going to get back here that isn't supposed to."

"What about Greg and Sara?" asked Nick, still continuing this line despite the looks he was receiving from the other two men to just drop it. "Are they getting details too? I want to know what's happening. I think I deserve at least that."

"They're fine," Warrick said, refusing to meet his eyes.

"You're going to lie right to my face," Nick shot back, stepping closer and growing visibly angrier with every breath. "Right to my face, Warrick? What the hell is going on?"

"He' not authorized," Cabott said half-heartedly.

"I'm not authorized?" Nick repeated. "I'm not authorized? It's my girlfriend that got shot. It's my baby that might not make it. Charlie was my friend, and he died today because someone was after me. And I'm not authorized?"

"Calm down," Warrick said.

"Tell me what's going on," Nick practically yelled.

"Gentlemen," a new voice said from just behind them. "Is there a problem?"

Nick turned to see one of the nurses standing there, looking a bit wary but clearly intent on standing her ground.

"No," Warrick answered. "No problem. Why don't we take this into the waiting room?"

"I suggest you take your voices down with you," the nurse said to their retreating forms.

As soon as they'd gotten out the doors, Nick started again.

"What's going on? What's happened? Warrick, damn it, tell me now."

"He can't," Capott said firmly. "This is high priority and it can't…"

"Warrick," Nick pleaded, ignoring the other man entirely.

"It was Tess," Warrick finally relented, lowering his voice as he did so.

"I'm going to have to report you for this," said Capott seriously as he stepped away, shaking his head in apparent disgust.

"Don't bother," Warrick fired back, "I'll tell Ecklie myself."

"Tess?" repeated Nick as it finally sunk in. "Tess Bates, from the lab? She's the one… All this time, it's been her?"

Warrick nodded, looking at his feet.

"How? Why?"

"No idea," Warrick answered truthfully.

"Tess has been helping Ortega," Nick said slowly. "I just… Do Greg and Sara know?"

"Sara left for the lab with Ecklie," Warrick provided. "She's fine. She's safe."

"And Greg?"

Warrick paused, considering how much more he should say. Nick was upset, probably more upset than Warrick had ever seen him. He also had a lot on his mind already, a lot more to worry about than the rest of them did. Did Warrick really want to add to that?

"What about Greg?" Nick repeated. "Warrick, does he know?"

Warrick paused again, hating himself for what he was about to do, but rationalizing it was for the best.

"Greg knows."


	28. Past Reason

**Ties by SLynn  
****Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC  
**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'  
**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes: **This has been such a struggle. I'd like to thank everyone who has read, who keeps reading, and keeps sending me such positive reviews. I really do appreciate it, and it is because of that that I continue to try and finish this story. Thanks to my wonderful beta readers, RivenSky and Tripp3235, who are also very encouraging. I can't promise much beyond this chapter and the next, except that I will try! Thanks again and enjoy!

**Chapter 28: Past Reason**

"If I'm going to drive, sooner or later, you're going to have to tell me where we are going."

"I'll tell you when to turn."

Greg nodded slightly, keeping his eyes on the road. The streets were overflowing with traffic and wherever it was Tess was taking him, they were not going to get there any time soon.

"At least give me an idea," Greg continued. "I might know a shortcut."

"Just shut up and drive."

"Alright, but…"

"Why are you still talking?" Tess interrupted. "I told you to shut up. I have a gun. Do you know what's happening here? Don't you understand this at all?"

"Yes," Greg answered, casting her one more tentative glance. "I do. I think I do. And I know what you're going to do. I can't help it. I can't. I'm nervous. I talk when I'm nervous."

Tess seemed to consider it for a moment before she barked, "Pull over."

"What?" Greg returned. "Here?"

"Pull over right now," Tess repeated.

Greg did as she asked, as slowly as he could. He hadn't believed she do this here. Greg had thought she was going to take him some place remote, some place that would leave no witnesses. She hadn't really given him much time to consider any of it, but he knew what she had in mind. It was either going to be very messy and very public or, well, still messy, but at least no one else would be hurt.

Tess Bates wanted him dead, Greg had already accepted that. He didn't know why, he didn't know how she was involved in this mess, but since the moment he'd met her eyes in the garage, he'd known that much.

Greg had left willingly with Tess to keep her from hurting anyone else and now he didn't know what to do. They were still very much in public. There were people everywhere. Greg wouldn't be able to do anything here to protect himself or anyone else.

He could only continue to hope for the best as he pulled into the nearest lot and put the car into park.

"Where is it?" Tess asked, turning to him and raising the gun just enough to enforce her point.

"Where's what?"

"The phone."

"What…"

"Don't play with me," Tess interrupted. "The phone. Your phone. Who did you call? Who are you feeding information to?"

"I'm not," Greg said, one part relieved and one part kicking himself for not thinking of that before. "I'm really not. I don't even have my phone on me. I left it at the hospital."

"Put your hands on the wheel," she ordered, as she took a quick look around her.

Greg did as instructed and also took a look around. He wasn't surprised to see that no one was paying them the smallest bit of attention; that's how Las Vegas was.

Tess, switching the gun to her right hand, began checking Greg's jacket pockets for proof that he was lying.

While she did, Greg couldn't keep himself from looking at the gun. He couldn't help but think that right now might be the only chance he had to try and overpower her. She was certainly distracted enough.

"Don't."

Greg turned to see her eyes focused directly on his.

"I'll do it here," Tess said. "I'm not picky."

"Right," Greg returned with a nod, turning to look out the windshield.

"Let's go," Tess said, leaning back into her own seat, having determined that Greg really had been telling the truth.

"Where… " Greg started to ask, as he pulled out of the lot, stopping when he realized it was a stupid question.

"Not far."

* * *

Sara was uncertain if she was shaking with rage or fear. It felt the same either way. Ecklie had come and personally told her what was happening, escorting her as quickly as he could back to the lab. She'd have thanked him if she could find the words to speak, but somehow they just wouldn't come out.

When they'd arrived, Ecklie took her right into a briefing that Grissom was heading up; a fast, informal meeting, with most of the department heads.

Sara listened with increasing dread as she realized they had absolutely no idea where Greg could be.

"Sara," Catherine said, coming to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. "We're doing…"

"What do you know?" Sara interrupted, determined to be strong and not let the situation control her. "Why Tess? Why Greg?"

"Um," Sofia said, standing and joining them, "I've been looking into that. I've been digging into Tess Bates' history. First, um… Tess Bates is an alias. Her real name, I should say her birth name is Teresa Ortega. She had it legally changed in Los Angeles before she applied for the job here."

"Ortega? As in…"

"They're sisters," Sofia confirmed.

"How did no one know that?" Sara snapped in disbelief. "How could she get hired here and no one know that?"

"We do background checks on all new employees," Ecklie answered, "but only routine ones. The county checks references, social security cards and for any kind of criminal record. We can't legally check all of their relatives too."

"But she changed her name," Sara said, still stunned. "Doesn't that…"

"She did it legally over a year ago," Sofia provided. "Plus, she's a woman, claimed to have been divorced… it didn't raise any flags."

"So, is there anything… Do we know where she's taking him?"

"We're working on it, but there isn't much…"

"I got it!" Kevin yelled as he came bounding into the room. "I just got off the phone…"

He trailed off midsentence as he saw Sara there, the exuberant expression slowly leaking from his face.

"Where?" Brass asked, coming forward immediately with Grissom fast on his heels.

"3555 Las Vegas Boulevard," Kevin answered, avoiding Sara's gaze as best he could.

"They're still on the strip?" Grissom questioned. "Are you certain?"

"Yes," Kevin answered. "It took them some time, something about a down server, but they said that's where the car is now and that it's no longer moving."

"Who?" Sara asked, confused about where Kevin could be getting this information from.

"Um, customer service at LoJack," he returned, seemingly embarrassed. "Greg had told me a few weeks ago that you had it installed when three or four cars in your neighborhood ended up stolen."

Sara nodded, having completely forgotten about that herself in her panic.

"Where is that exactly?" Grissom asked.

"The Flamingo," answered Sofia, having pulled it up on the computer already. "Probably the parking garage, yes?"

Brass was already on the radio calling it in.

"Metro is on their way," he told the room as he moved towards the door.

"I'm coming with you," Sara said, but was quickly overruled by not only Ecklie, but by nearly everyone else in the room as well.

"I'll call you as soon as we know something," Brass promised, leaving quickly with Grissom to head to the casino.

"So I'm just supposed to sit here and wait?" Sara asked incredulously.

"Exactly," Ecklie answered, but not harshly. "Sara, we can't have you there. You know that."

She nodded reluctantly in agreement.

"Call me immediately if you find anything new," he said to Sofia, before going after Brass and Grissom.

"So…" Kevin said, drawing the word out. "What do we do now?"

"You can help me with Bates' files," Sofia offered. "There's not much else we can do for now."

"You did a good job," Catherine said as he took a seat at the table.

"Thanks," he muttered. "It was just lucky, really. Nothing to it."

"Let's see if we can stretch that luck a bit further then," Sofia said, passing him a large file.

Sara watched them for a moment as they got back to work before turning away. She'd wanted to thank Kevin as well, but once more found herself speechless.

How do you thank someone for finding your dead husband?

She knew that was exactly why they hadn't wanted her to come along. She knew that they were already expecting the worst. Sara expected it too. In her mind she was already calculating the exact number of minutes it would take for them to get to the scene, access the damage and work up the nerve to call back with the unfortunate news.

It was torture.

* * *

The ride there was silent.

Grissom had ridden over with Brass, but neither of them could hardly believe this was happening. Neither of them could believe that they would be looking at Greg Sanders' dead body in a matter of moments.

But, they were mistaken.

Just as they pulled into the garage the security guard on duty told them that they had located the car and it was empty.

It was both a relief and incredibly frustrating.

"What do you know?" Brass asked the nearest cop as he got out and approached the car.

"Casino security is pulling up the tapes. It took us awhile to find the car you were looking for, but when we did we noticed this almost immediately."

As he spoke, the cop pointed to a space three cars away that was empty except for a mess of safety glass.

"Do we know what the car here looked like?" Ecklie asked quickly having pulled up right behind them; Grissom was already inspecting Greg's now abandoned vehicle.

"It'll be on the video," the cop answered. "We've got a man up there looking now."

"As soon as he knows," Brass said. "As soon as he's certain I want an all points out for that car, do we understand each other?"

"Yes sir," the officer returned.

Brass nodded and then moved to where Grissom and Ecklie were.

"What do you think?" he asked them both in a low voice.

"That she knew we'd be on to her fairly quickly," Grissom answered. "She probably dumped Greg's car hours ago. Has probably even changed cars again since then. The engine is completely cold."

"She did have a two hour head start," Ecklie provided somewhat unnecessarily.

"Do you think they're still in the city?" Brass asked.

Grissom shook his head.

"Not likely. All we really know is that Diane Ortega wanted Greg dead, and it looks like her sister does as well."

"What about Stokes?" Brass asked. "She wasn't just after Sanders."

"We have a detail with him," Ecklie provided. "He's safe. Besides, he's at the hospital. She wouldn't risk it."

"She's already risked everything she has," Grissom countered. "She has to know by now that we know what she's done. She has nothing left to lose."

"I'll call Brown," Ecklie said with a crisp nod. "Get him up to date and aware of the danger."

"I'll call Sara," Brass added. "She's probably climbing the walls by now. It's not good news, but it could be worse. Do you really think she'll go after Stokes as well?"

Grissom shrugged his shoulders in defeat.

"I don't know."


	29. Pictured

**Ties by SLynn  
****Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC  
**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**  
Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Chapter 29: Pictured**

After they had stolen a new car from the parking garage of the Flamingo, Tess had directed the two of them through the rougher section of Las Vegas for some time. It was then that Greg realized that she had no plan. That she really hadn't thought any of this through and had probably only nabbed him because he'd come across her at the wrong time.

Certainly he had been her target, but circumstance and his own misfortune were at play right now.

It was practically the story of his life.

"Get on the fifteen," she finally said, pointing to the on ramp just ahead of them.

"South?" Greg asked, almost hopefully. They were so far north that south was the only way back into town.

"North."

Greg nodded briskly, taking the ramp and joining the thinning traffic just past Fremont Street.

North.

North of Las Vegas on I-15 was a whole lot of nothing.

"Aren't you going to ask?"

Greg shook his head in response.

"You had so many questions before. I thought now…"

"Why are you doing this?" he interrupted quickly, surprised by his own anger. "Why? I don't… I don't understand. What's this to you? Why? Why did you do all of this?"

"You ruined Diane's life."

"She ruined her own life," Greg spat back.

"She sacrificed everything for this place," Tess returned, getting more and more agitated as she spoke. "She put herself through college. She was the top of all her classes. She lost friendships for it; her marriage. It was all she ever wanted. It was her life. And you took it from her. You took it from her and then put her away."

"I didn't --"

"Yes you did," Tess yelled. "You did this. You did this to yourself and to everyone else. You're the one. You don't deserve her place. You hadn't earned it."

Greg gripped the steering wheel tighter and tried to ignore that little voice in his head that concurred.

For a few minutes more there was silence, but ultimately Greg had to ask more.

"Why you then? What is she to you that you'd do all this for her?"

"She's my sister," Tess answered, for the first time looking truly remorseful. "When I found out… When I discovered what had happened, I knew I had to set it right. I knew I had to even the score. I wasn't going to let you or anyone else get away with treating my sister like that. And now… now…"

Tess, momentarily in tears, turned to look out the passenger's window.

If they had still been in town, Greg would have taken the opportunity to try and get away. To try anything really, but as it was they were already so far away from everyone and everything, there was no where for him to go.

"Pull over," Tess ordered, her voice harsh once more.

Greg eased the car off the interstate and onto the gravel lane that ran just beside it, putting the car into park without being asked to do so; knowing that would come next.

"Turn it off and give me the keys."

Again, he did just as he was asked; casually checking for any cars that might be passing them in either direction and not surprised to find none.

"Get out."

It was colder than he thought it would be.

Greg got out of the car and walked instinctively towards the passenger's door. Tess had already exited the vehicle by the time he made it there and only pointed off towards the field beside them, making him lead the way.

"This is far enough."

Greg stopped but didn't turn around. Tess, he sensed, had stopped walking several yards back. His own mind told him that there were a million things he could, and probably should, be thinking right now, but he couldn't concentrate.

This was it.

His brain kept repeating it in disbelief.

This was it and it wasn't the death he'd pictured. It wasn't the death he felt he deserved.

This was it and he'd never gotten to say goodbye…

"Turn around," Tess called out, catching him off guard.

It wasn't what he'd expected; startled more to find that he could still form expectations in this crazy scenario.

"How far do you think we are away? About an hours drive?"

"I… I don't know," Greg answered, confused by the question.

"Stokes is at the hospital, right?"

Greg shook his head in a refusal to answer.

"Isn't he?"

"Why?" Greg asked in return.

"He is," Tess answered for herself. "He's there with his girlfriend. It's about an hour away. Plenty of time."

"Time for what?" asked Greg, growing seriously alarmed now that this night was going to get even worse. "What --"

It was so quick; a flash of light followed by loud pop that turned into a deafening roar of noise inside his head.

Greg hadn't realized he'd hit the ground until he'd opened his eyes again and saw only a star covered night.

The pain was bright and angry across his midsection, and Greg felt like there was nothing else in the world but him and it in that moment.

* * *

Nick had just started to doze fitfully in the chair beside Amy's hospital bed when the door creaked open from across the room.

Amy's parents, Lynn and Danny Chen, crept slowly into the room as quietly as they could, looking simultaneously alarmed and relieved.

"How is she?" Danny asked Nick who had gotten up to meet them despite their silent protests to the contrary.

"Better," Nick answered. "Her collarbone is broke and she lost some blood but she's going to be fine."

"And the baby?" asked Lynn.

"The contractions have almost stopped," Nick returned calmly, not without some effort on his part. "They're running tests and monitoring her and so far it looks good."

Letting out a sigh of relief, Lynn nearly smiled up at Nick before pulling him into a hug and kissing him quickly on the cheek.

"Thank goodness," she said as tears formed in her eyes. "We were so worried. So, so worried. Does Sharon know?"

"Who?" Nick asked feeling lost.

It was no secret to Nick that Amy's mother disliked him. That Lynn thought he wasn't good enough for Amy; that she could do much better. She hadn't been happy with them even dating, and since Amy had become pregnant, Lynn hadn't spoken more than three words to him.

"Your mother," Lynn clarified, as if it should be obvious. "I called her, of course, as soon as Karen called me. Someone had to."

"You talked to my mother?"

Lynn didn't answer him, only gave him a look he was very familiar with, before turning to fuss over Amy.

Nick, still confused by all this, turned instead to Danny who, unlike his wife, actually liked him.

"They've been talking for months now over the phone," Danny offered quietly. "You know. Planning the baby shower and wedding."

Nick didn't know what to say. Both of their families knew that Nick and Amy were not planning on getting married any time soon, that Amy wouldn't even let Nick buy her a ring, so he could not understand why they were planning a wedding for them.

Well, Nick's own mother, Sharon, he knew well enough to expect this from, but Nick couldn't understand why Amy's mother was planning a wedding for them.

It was almost too much.

Before he could say anything to any of this, Nick's phone rang.

"That's probably her," Lynn said to him in a whisper from across the room.

Nick looked at his phone and, sure enough, it was his mother.

"I'll just take this out in the hall," he said as he made his way out the door.

"Nick," she said almost immediately, not waiting for a greeting. "How is she? How's the baby?"

"She's fine," Nick assured her, moving quickly to the waiting room where Warrick and the officer on detail still remained. "Amy and the baby are both fine. I'd have called you sooner if I'd known you knew, Mom. I'm sorry…"

"No, don't apologize," she cut in quickly. "You had plenty enough to deal with without us nagging you with questions."

"I still should have called," Nick returned, shutting his eyes as he sat down next to Warrick.

"It's alright as long as everything else is," Sharon said sounding extremely relieved.

"It is," Nick said as Warrick looked his way.

"That's great, honey. It really is."

A beep on the line let Nick know he had another call waiting. Glancing quickly at the phone, he saw it was coming from one of the lab's phones.

"Mom, I've got to go," Nick said quickly. "I've got a call I have to take."

"Okay then," Sharon said, still sounding nervous. "Call us in the morning. Or when you can. Alright?"

"I will," Nick promised before saying goodbye and switching to the other call a moment too late.

"Who was it?" Warrick asked.

"The lab," Nick answered, noticing he'd received a message as well. "They left a message though."

Warrick straightened up, curious as to who would be calling Nick from the lab when all the information about the case was supposed to go through him first.

"What'd they say?" he asked.

"Nothing," Nick said, flipping through his messages. "They sent me some photos --"

Nick stopped abruptly, the color draining from his face.

"What the hell," he muttered, his eyes never leaving the screen. "What is this? Is this some kind of…"

Warrick leaned over to see as well and immediately snapped up his own phone.

"Who sent that?" he barked.

"I told you," Nick answered as he scrutinized the pictures some more. "I don't know. It was a lab line, probably one of the phones that are loaned out… Is this… That's Greg. That's Greg, isn't it? Warrick, what in hell is going on?"

Warrick didn't answer, he was too busy explaining it to Brass.

"When did this happen?" Nick continued to question, his voice growing louder and angrier with each word. "Why didn't you tell me? What…"

"Hold on," Warrick said into his phone before addressing Nick. "We didn't know, alright. We didn't. We only knew that Tess took Greg…"

"And you didn't even tell me that?"

"Nick," Warrick sighed. "You've had a lot going on here tonight. No one wanted to add…"

"Add to it," Nick repeated, loud enough now to draw the nurse at the receptionist desk's attention. "So you lied to me? That's… that's…"

Nick trailed off, looking back at the photo still on his phone again and shaking his head.

"Brass is on his way here," Warrick said. "They're tracing the line. If she's still got the phone on…"

Nick's phone rang.

He looked to Warrick, uncertain if he should answer it or if they even wanted him to. Uncertain if he wanted to talk at all.

Warrick just nodded and Nick knew what he had to do.

"Stokes," he said into the receiver.

"You got the pictures?"

"Yes," he said tersely, nodding at Warrick to indicate it was indeed Tess Bates on the line with him.

"Do you know how long it takes for a person to bleed out?"

"A few hours," Nick said, forcing himself to remain calm.

"Three or four in some cases," Tess returned. "Some have gone longer than that. It's slow and it's painful."

"Greg's not dead then," Nick said, more for Warrick's benefit then for Tess's.

"Not yet," she answered. "When I left him he was still alive. There's still time to save him. Get him to a hospital."

"Where is he?"

"How about I tell you in person?"

"Where?" Nick asked, his patience slipping.

"Lorenzi Park," Tess said. "In the parking lot by the pond. You have fifteen minutes to get there."

"Alright."

Nick shut his eyes and dropped his head, knowing what was coming next.

"And Nick?"

"Yeah."

"Come alone."


	30. Won

**Ties by SLynn  
****Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC  
**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'  
**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes: **Another day, another chapter. Okay, so it's more like, another three months, another chapter. I'm honestly getting close to finishing this one. Thanks to RivenSky and Tripp3235 for their help! Thanks to you for reading and reviewing! Enjoy!

**Chapter 30: Won**

"You can't be serious."

"That park is only a few blocks from here. If I hurry…"

"You are serious," Warrick interrupted, taking him roughly by the arm. "Nick. No. There is no way in hell I'm let--"

"I'm going," Nick returned, yanking free as he continued at a hurried pace down the corridor of the hospital. "I have to. This may be the only chance we get to find Greg before…"

"Nick," Warrick said as calmly as he could as he struggled to keep up. "I want to believe that too but…"

"He's not dead."

"You're not thinking, man. You're not…"

Nick's phone rang as they approached the elevators. He gave it only a fleeting glance before stuffing it back into his jacket pocket.

"You can't do this. You know it's a setup, right?" Warrick continued as Nick all but turned his back on him, pressing the call button repeatedly. "She probably won't even be there. This might just be a diversion so she can slip further away. Hell, even if she does show, she's never going to tell us where he is, Nick. You know that."

"It's all we've got," Nick said tightly, refusing to look Warrick in the eyes.

"Nick, I can't let you do this."

The doors finally slid open and Nick wasted no time hurrying inside, Warrick right on his heels. He quickly pushed the lobby button, refusing to break his stony silence.

Warrick said nothing, trying to think of something, anything he could say that would stop Nick on embarking what was almost certainly a suicide mission. Warrick knew that there was no way Tess Bates, after all she'd done over the past months, after all she'd helped do tonight, would ever tell them anything about her crimes. The only likely reason she wanted Nick to come, and to come alone, to meet her was so that she could finish him off as well.

If it was a matter of saving Greg, Warrick might think differently. But as it was, Warrick was certain Greg was already dead. Tess probably wouldn't have left anything to chance, not after working so hard towards this.

"Nick," he began again just as the doors opened on the lobby, "you can't do this. Please, just stop for a moment. Just stop and think about why…"

"I don't need a why," Nick said not even bothering to stop and face him. "I have to do this. I have to. Don't you understand that?"

"I understand why, Nick, but do you think Greg would want you to do this? Or Sara? What about Amy, Nick? Damn it, you know what's waiting for you at that park. I don't want to have to go back up there and tell Amy that we got sent pictures of you bleeding in some ditch."

Nick finally stopped. Shaking his head and turning back towards Warrick, he'd never felt more lost in his life. Part of him still really wanted to go and confront her; to at least try and get some answers, even if that meant putting his own life in jeopardy. But another part knew he shouldn't. That it was a foolish, headstrong thing to do. That Amy deserved better than that; that their baby deserved better than that.

Warrick's phone rang, breaking the tension.

"Brown," he answered, never taking his eyes off of Nick, despite hoping to have finally gotten through to him.

"Is Stokes with you?" Brass asked, sounding hurried.

"Yeah," said Warrick. "He's right here."

"Good. He isn't answering his phone. He's not going to that park, is he?"

"No," Warrick said truthfully.

"Make sure he doesn't," Brass ordered. "Keep him at that hospital, Warrick. I don't want him anywhere near that park even if Bates calls him every five minutes, do you understand?"

"Got it."

"I mean it, Warrick."

"Are you there now?" Warrick asked.

"Almost," Brass returned. "We'll let you know if we get anything useful."

"Good," Warrick said, hanging up after hearing Brass disconnect on the other side.

"Did he order you to handcuff me to the chairs?" Nick asked somewhat grimly as they made there way back to the elevator they'd just taken downstairs.

"No, but that's a good idea."

"I'm not going," Nick said quietly. "I know it's… I know it's not going to do anyone any good."

"You're doing the right thing," Warrick said, trying to sound as reassuring as he could.

Nick nodded his head and bit his lip, but had no reply.

It didn't feel like the right thing.

* * *

"My God," Catherine muttered, shaking her head and turning away.

It was too much.

Grissom and Catherine had, upon seeing the photos, locked themselves in his office and tried to just think. They had three photographs of rather poor quality and nothing else to go on, but they had to try. They had to.

"Let's focus here," Grissom said, shutting his eyes momentarily from the sight of it all. "Let's think. What can we derive from the picture; from the surroundings."

"It's dirt and sagebrush," Catherine returned bitterly, trying to look at everything that wasn't Greg in the image. "It's everywhere. I've got it ten feet from my house. Hell, there's some behind the lab, Gil."

"Catherine."

"I know," she responded, taking a deep breath. "I know. Calm. Stay calm. But, look… Just… Alright, she probably took him some place out of town to be safe and unseen. That could mean either towards Boulder City, Primm, Salt Lake City, Pahrump… That's a lot of highway."

"Let's not rule out developments inside the city," Grissom added.

"Why don't we just patrol the state? California too, just to be safe. Arizona. Utah."

"We're going to find him."

"I want to believe…"

Catherine stopped at the sound of a knock on the door.

Grissom flipped off the display on his computer before going to answer the door and ultimately ushering Archie inside.

Outside of Brass, Archie was the only one that had known about the call. Grissom had made the decision to tell no one else until Ecklie could be told. Catherine had wanted to tell Sara, but quickly saw reason. There was no need to upset her until they were completely certain; until they were absolutely sure, either way, about Greg's fate. It was horrible, but they both knew Sara. She'd want to know everything. She'd want to see the photos, and they couldn't allow it. If he was dead, they couldn't let that be the last image she had of him. They wouldn't, unless they had no other choice.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said. "I've been running that trace you asked me to and I just wanted to double check it with you."

"Why," Catherine asked, sensing Archie's unease. "What's wrong with it?"

"I just… Are you sure you gave me the right number?"

"702-555-1202," Grissom repeated, reading the number off of the paper he'd written it down not long before.

"That's… That's what I thought," Archie said quickly. "I called it up via GPS and the caller is at UMC."

"You're certain?" Grissom asked, hand already on the phone to call Brass with the news.

"I double checked," Archie verified. "I thought at first it was Nick's phone, but…"

Grissom held up a hand for silence as he quickly dialed the number needed.

"Brass, we have a problem."

* * *

Nick was surprised, upon returning to Amy's room, to find her awake.

"Hey," he said, mustering his strength. "You're up. How are you feeling?"

"Better," Amy answered. "Where were you?"

"Just taking a call," Nick said, smiling as best he could. "Has the doctor been back?"

"No," Lynn said before Amy could. "The nurse said he'd been in soon."

"Good."

Amy motioned Nick over, sensing something was wrong. He hadn't even really left the doorway. It wasn't like him at all.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, reaching out and taking his hand.

Nick only nodded, squeezing her hand once before dropping it and turning away.

Danny and Lynn began talking quietly together, but Karen and Amy exchanged quick, worried glances.

"Nick, if something…" Amy began, not even sure what she suspected; only that it had to be bad.

Before she'd finished, the door suddenly banged open startling them all as Warrick entered the room in a rush.

"Nick," he called out, not bothering to address anyone else.

Nick didn't wait for more. The look in Warrick's eyes was enough. He joined him instantly at the door, prepared for the worst.

"What? What's happened?" Nick asked in a low voice, very aware of the fact that Amy was straining to hear them both.

"She's in the building."

It almost didn't register. Nick stared at him blankly for a moment before shaking his head as if in a daze.

"What?"

"She's here," Warrick repeated. "The lab tracked her phone to this building."

It was only then that Nick realized that Warrick wasn't alone. That not only was the officer from early by his side, but an additional one as well.

"Stay here," Warrick ordered. "Don't let anyone leave. Officer Capott and Officer James are going to be right outside this door."

"Let me…"

"No," Warrick interrupted. "You know why she's here. She's trying to finish this. You want to stop her? Stay put. You got that?"

"Yeah."

"I mean it, Nick," Warrick said.

"I know," Nick said with a nod. "I do. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving Amy…"

"Good," Warrick said, still stern. "Brass is on his way back. They've already got security sweeping the building."

"What about you?"

"Worry about your family right now, okay?"

Nick nodded and there was nothing left to do but go back inside and wait.

As soon as the door shut, he knew how it would be. All eyes were on him expectantly, but only Amy could find her voice.

"What's happening?"

Warrick's only intention at the moment was to take a quick look around the floor he was on before heading off to meet Brass in the lobby. Security was already covering both the garage and the emergency room, but it was a big building.

There was no telling how long ago Tess had arrived.

There was no telling what she really planned on doing.

But he could guess.

Warrick guessed that if she'd come all the way back to the hospital, and had purposely tried to lure Nick away, that she was only after Amy. Possibly she knew they'd call her bluff and Nick would remain behind too. Possibly she just wanted to cause as much pain as she could. Whatever the case, she'd be nearby. By now, she'd at least know where Amy was being kept.

The first thing he did was talk quickly with the receptionist, reaffirming with her that only authorized personnel were to come back to the rooms just now. He gave a brief description of Tess before asking where the storage rooms were.

The second thing Tess would need to do if she was really intent on her purpose was to disguise herself. After finding where Amy was, she'd have to blend in. What better way to do that than to dress the part. Sure enough, the first storage room Warrick ran across looked as if it had been raided. The door was unlocked and there were several spare sets of scrubs lying on the floor.

Turning down a rather deserted hallway, Warrick soon realized that one person searching alone was pointless. He'd have to wait for additional help. There were just too many rooms and too many passageways.

Just as he turned back towards the elevators his phone rang.

"Brown," he answered it.

"Where are you?" Brass asked hurriedly from the other end.

"On my way to the lobby."

"Good. What about Nick?"

"He's with Amy. Capott and James are right outside their door."

"Alright," Brass said. "I'll be there in five minutes with backup."

"I'll be waiting, but I think…"

Warrick trailed off, stopping in his tracks and turning down a hallway he'd almost passed. Some movement had caught his eye, but now it was gone.

"Warrick? What's going on?"

Warrick didn't answer. Instead he closed the phone and turned it off, not wanting to be interrupted again just yet.

Moving as quickly as he could without making too much noise, he moved down the connecting hallway to the path he'd seen the person on.

He knew immediately it was her.

"Freeze!" he yelled, bring out his gun and quickly getting it level with the woman not far ahead of him.

Tess Bates stopped but did nothing else.

"Let me see your hands," Warrick ordered.

She remained unmoved, her back still to him.

"Tess!" he yelled once more. "Your hands. Now. Turn around slowly with your hands up!"

Warrick began slowly moving to the far wall, trying to get the best view he could of her without much success.

"Turn around, Tess. Now. You don't want any more trouble tonight."

Finally she began to slowly wheel his way, one arm outstretched, the other holding her own gun underneath her chin.

"Put it down," Warrick said calmly, hardly daring to blink. "Put the gun down, Tess."

"I didn't want it to end this way," she finally said.

"It doesn't have to," Warrick returned.

"It wasn't supposed to go this wrong. If she'd only waited…"

"Just put the gun down, Tess, and we'll work this out," Warrick said as sympathetically as he could. On the inside, he was boiling.

"No," she said, shaking her head as a few tears slipped down her face. "No. There's nothing else I can do."

"Yes you can," Warrick urged. "You can put down the gun and come with me. If you talk, if you explain what happened and cooperate, I'm sure --"

"I don't know what happened," she cried out. "I don't. None of this was my idea. It was all Diane. She planned it, I only got her the information she wanted. I didn't know… I didn't know it would go this far."

Warrick nodded as if in agreement with her, but didn't buy a single word of it.

"You can't tell your side unless you come with me," Warrick told her.

"What's it matter? No one is going to believe me. You don't even believe me, I know it."

Sighing, Warrick shifted slightly, wishing he'd at least told Brass what was happening before hanging up on him.

"What I think…"

That slight lapse in concentration was all it took. Warrick hadn't even gotten the first word out before Tess began moving, pulling the gun down in one swift motion; pointing it away from herself and towards him. He had just enough time to react as the first gunshot went off, followed quickly by two from his own gun.

It was so quick.

Warrick moved to ensure that her gun was safely out of the way before checking on Tess. She was lying on the floor, wounded, but not mortally.

She'd missed him, but he'd gotten her twice; once in the arm and once in the leg.

"You should have killed me," she panted, looking up at him with an entirely different expression than the one she'd worn previously. She looked deranged. She looked evil.

"Where's Greg?" Warrick asked, holstering his gun and taking out his phone to call for backup.

She laughed.

Warrick spouted off the details to Brass, already hearing commotion in the hallway from people who, if they didn't hear the verbal exchange, definitely heard the gunfire.

"Where's Greg?" Warrick asked again. "And don't tell me you don't know, or that Diane did that too. That was you. We have proof. Do yourself a favor and tell me where he is. Now."

Tess's eyes began to glaze over in pain as she paused to consider it for a moment before laughing once more and shaking her head.

"No," she said, still laughing uncontrollably. "No. I won't tell. He deserved this. I'm only sorry I didn't get to the other ones too. You want to know where he is, go find him yourself. That's your job, right Warrick? Isn't it? That's your job."

By this time, Brass and several other policemen had arrived, as well as a few doctors and nurses. Warrick pointed out the gun, quickly ran down what had happened as Tess was being examined, and then turned his back on the scene.

As he walked down the hall, trying to clear it from his mind, he could still hear her laughing.

Tess was still laughing even as they took her away and Warrick knew she had won.


	31. Shock

**Ties by SLynn  
****Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC  
**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'  
**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Chapter 31: Shock**

"Sara, I'm sure…"

Jacqui was the first to speak, but didn't seem to really know what to say. After the first three words had spilled from her mouth, she trailed off into silence, fixing her eyes back on the television.

Sara hadn't even heard her.

She watched and listened in mute terror as the reporter filled them in on the latest officer-related shooting, this one inside UMC. She listened to the conflicting accounts, varying from mass casualties and multiple gunmen, to no injuries and a lone shooter. She watched as Brass made his way onto the screen, in the background, rushing past in a blur of motion that all but screamed the fact that this wasn't over yet. She listened, and watched, and waited.

If felt like hours.

"Sara?"

No other voice could have caught her attention better.

Wheeling round Sara stared back at him unable to speak.

As if on queue, Hodges and Jacqui stood up and silently took their leave, knowing this conversation didn't involve them.

"Where is he?" Sara asked as soon as the door had shut behind them.

"Sara," Catherine began. "We wanted to tell you… No one wanted you to find out like this."

"Do you even know?" Sara continued, ignoring her completely and focusing only on Grissom. "Do you know anything?"

"We don't know where he is," Grissom admitted.

"But you do know something, right? You do because otherwise you wouldn't be here now. You wouldn't be so willing to apologize and to make sure I'm alright."

"It's not like --"

"Tell me what is going on," Sara interrupted, raising her voice loud enough to catch the attention of passersby in the hall.

Catherine and Grissom exchanged a long look before the later finally sighed and nodded his head.

"Nick was contacted by Tess to arrange a meeting," Grissom began, carefully omitting how. "Before it had happened she arrived at UMC and was confronted by Warrick."

"Is he…"

"He's fine," Grissom added quickly. "He's not hurt. There was an exchange and she was shot. She's being treated at UMC right now, but it's very minor. Brass is questioning her but…"

"She's not talking," Sara finished.

"Sara," Catherine began again, only to be interrupted by Ecklie barging through the door.

"Good," he said quickly, shutting the door once more. "You're all here. Sara, are you caught up? Do you have any questions? Is there anything we can do for you?"

"You can tell me where Greg is," Sara stated blankly.

"We don't know," Ecklie said, casting a glance at Grissom and obviously displeased. "That's why I'm here. We're having a press conference in fifteen minutes. It's entirely your call if you want to attend or not. Either way, no pressure. Warrick was able to locate the car inside the garage at the hospital, so we'll be giving out the description, in case anyone saw anything earlier tonight. Sofia has gone over to help. Also, we need a firm radius. It can always be extended, but given the timeline, I think we can guess how far away she could have driven and gotten back. We've already started faxing out Sand--, Greg's description and last ID photo to the local hospitals and outlying police agencies."

"Is this…" Sara started, her voice beginning to crack. "Is this a… Do you think…"

"It's a rescue call," Grissom provided for her.

Sara looked down and nodded.

"I need to get going," Ecklie finished quickly. "Sara?"

"Yes," she nodded, refusing to meet either Grissom or Catherine's eyes. "I'm coming. I want to be there."

"I'll drive you then," Ecklie continued, opening the door and ushering her out without another word.

For a moment it was complete silence.

"I'd better get those numbers," Catherine finally said, breaking the tension only slightly.

Grissom just nodded.

"Did we…" she began to ask, but quickly changed her mind and simply headed out the door.

Grissom just walked over to the television and turned it off.

How did things get so far out of hand?

* * *

"Need a hand?"

Warrick looked up and managed a grim smile.

"I wish I did," he said, standing up and shaking his head. "The car is pretty clean. Not much to go on."

Sofia nodded, shifting her case from one hand to the next.

"There's some dirt on the driver's side floorboard," he related, walking around to show her what he'd meant. "Greg's wallet was in the glove compartment. And I found some blood. It's already been collected and tagged. I was just going back through it while I waited for impound."

Sofia peered into the car and let out a sigh of relief.

"It wasn't here then?" she asked, and without clarification Warrick nodded.

"No," he said. "No. She must have gotten him out of the car first."

Sofia stared at him, hard, for a moment or more, before finally averting her gaze; it was still too soon to talk about. The time might never come when she'd feel ready to talk about it.

Warrick stared back at the car now as well.

"She's not talking," he provided, unasked. "I tried. Brass is still trying. She's never going to tell us."

"There're lots of people looking," Sofia said half-heartedly. "There's still a chance."

"I guess," Warrick sighed.

"You can't --"

Sofia was interrupted as her phone rang.

"Curtis," she said into it.

Warrick watched and waited as she nodded tightly and finally got off the line.

"Come on," she gestured, hurrying towards her car.

"What's going on?" he asked, grabbing his things and following her as fast as he could.

Sofia stopped at the nearest officer and rattled off a series of instructions before continuing on at a near break-neck speed.

"Sofia?" Warrick asked as he slid into the passenger's seat. "What is it?"

"They found a body," she answered after a brief pause, her hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel.

"It's not…"

"Dispatch didn't say," she answered. "They only said it's a white male and that it was found off the side of the interstate."

For a minute or more they sat in the car before, finally, Sofia started the engine.

"You okay to drive?" Warrick asked quietly.

"I'm fine," she nodded, looking straight ahead, afraid to say more.

* * *

"My client has nothing to say."

"Your client," Brass repeated back sarcastically, "had better reconsider. Right now, she's not a murderer."

The man shifted uncomfortably in his chair beside Tess's hospital bed.

"May we have a moment alone to confer?" he asked.

"Sure," Brass said, rising from his seat.

"Don't bother," Tess said. "I'm not talking. I've got nothing to say."

"It might be in your own best interest…" her lawyer began.

"I don't care," Tess interrupted angrily. "I'm not saying anything. Let him rot. Beside, they can't charge me with murder if there's no body. Right?"

"Oh, well," Brass said easily. "If that's all. We've already got a body."

Tess's eyes darted briefly to the clock.

"We've got several," Brass supplied.

"I didn't shoot that detective."

"That detective's name was Charlie Sullivan," Brass returned bitterly. "And we already know that. That was Diane Ortega, your sister."

"So you have nothing," she returned.

"We know you were in on it."

"But you can't prove anything."

"What about Mitch Anderson?" Brass asked, producing a photo from his crime scene. "Bonnie Watts? Your sister didn't kill them. She couldn't have. She was still in jail at the time."

Tess averted her eyes, staring instead at the wall as she shook her head slightly.

"You may have already forgotten," Tess said, "but I know you can't prove that. You have no evidence. I've seen the case files."

"Have you seen Paul Porter's?" Brass asked. "No, that's right. You haven't. You were already on the run by then."

"You have nothing."

"That's three victims, Tess," Brass continued, undeterred. "Nevada has the death penalty. Do you really want to push your luck and make it four? Tell me where he is."

"Ms. Bates," her lawyer said evenly. "Again, it might be best if you…"

"Get me Stokes," Tess interrupted, glaring at Brass.

"Pardon?"

"Stokes," Tess repeated. "I know he's here. Bring him in and I'll talk. I tell him, but only him."

"I don't think…"

"It's either that or nothing," Tess continued. "It's your call, but you might want to hurry. There's no time to waste."

Brass nodded his head briefly as he rose to his feet. There was no other choice.

* * *

Warrick and Sofia had spent the first half of the ride in a tense silence, and the second half in animated conversation regarding the possibilities of this actually being it.

How long did it take for a person to bleed out?

How long ago had Greg actually been shot?

How likely was it to find another body matching the same basic description?

Bringing the car to a halt, Sofia took a deep breath to steady herself. It was no real surprise to see that the media had beaten them there. It seemed as if the only thing on the news today had been this case. Everyone knew there was still one missing person. Everyone knew how the story was likely to end.

"Ready?" asked Warrick.

"Are you?"

"Not really," he admitted.

"Let's just do this then," she returned, shutting the car off and exiting as quickly as she could.

"Curtis?" one of the officers called out, approaching her somewhat hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"The body is over this way," he answered, leading them off over a small embankment. "We've kept it covered because of the reporters. It's not pretty."

"We've got it from here," Warrick said stoically.

They both continued the rest of the way towards the body together, thankfully out of the glare of the lights.

"Ready?" Warrick asked for the second time, poised to remove the cover.

Sofia nodded stiffly, briefly shutting her eyes as she heard Warrick exhale deeply and pull back the tarp.

"Jesus," he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.

Sofia finally looked down at the body and fought down a shudder.

There was hardly enough left to call it a body. It was definitely male, definitely white, and had been shot numerous times in the torso and head.

"This can't be…" Sofia immediately objected.

"She could have taken the picture first," Warrick offered, not wanting to believe it himself, but not wanting to deny the possibility.

Sofia nodded in agreement, bending low to get a closer look.

"Okay," she said as she straightened up. "Let's take some initial photos and then check for identification."

Warrick, knowing Sofia had seen Greg last, wanted to ask if she thought it was him. Try as he could Warrick just couldn't remember what Greg had been wearing earlier? It was probably shock, he knew it was, but it was all a blank. All he knew was that the man before them bore a striking resemblance to the one they were looking for.

Sofia said nothing. She couldn't talk, she couldn't think; not if she wanted to do her job. Instead she took out her camera and began snapping off various pictures. First several long shots, being certain to get the body from different angles and points of view. Next the close-ups. She started with the wounds and mentally couldn't get past them. It wasn't until she snapped several pictures of the victim's hands that it hit her.

"There's no wedding ring," she offered quietly.

Warrick heard, leaning in to look as well.

"I've never seen Greg without his on," Sofia went on.

"Could she have taken it?"

"Yeah," Sofia concluded. "But look. There's not even an indent."

Warrick silently agreed, giving the body a better look as the shock began to wear off.

"And these clothes? Those shoes?" Sofia questioned. "None of this looks like Greg. I don't… I don't think this is him."

"We should be certain," Warrick said cautiously.

"I know," she agreed.

Warrick carefully checked the body for any kind of identification or wallet, only to come up empty.

"We'll need to run a DNA comparison or check his dental records to be sure."

"I don't think it's him," Sofia stated, firm now in her opinion.

"I don't want to," Warrick added, not as willing to get his hopes up.


	32. Telling Tales

**Ties by SLynn  
****Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC  
**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'  
**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes:** Thank you Tripp3235 and RivenSky for pushing me hard to finish. I'm almost done! There are at least two more chapters to go, and then, the end. The end! It's almost done, after a very, very long time. Thanks for continuing to read and for reviewing and for everything. Enjoy!

**Chapter 32: Telling Tales**

Nick had been in the middle of explaining it, for the third time, to Amy and her parents when Brass walked into the room.

It was a relief in a lot of ways.

Karen had been the only one to truly understand what was happening; everyone else was just confused. Amy, still heavily medicated and very agitated, kept repeating the same questions again and again, and Danny and Lynn didn't know enough about the people or events involved to grasp the subject well.

"Can I borrow him for a moment?" Brass asked Amy, trying for an easygoing approach.

"Yeah," Amy nodded uncertainly.

Nick looked at Karen uncomfortably.

"She's in shock," she said in a low whisper. "I'll get through to her."

"Thanks," he muttered before leaning in to kiss Amy goodbye. "I won't be long."

Brass smiled tightly at the Chens and then headed out the door into the hallway with Nick.

"What's happened now?" sighed Nick, not sure he could take much more. "Any word on Greg?"

"That's why I'm here."

Nick looked up sharply, already fearing the worst.

"No," Brass said quickly. "Not that. It's Tess. She wants to talk to you. Says she'll only talk to you."

Nick said nothing, just shuffled his feet as he stared up at the ceiling.

"You don't have to do it," Brass said. "But, she's our best chance at finding Sanders."

"Where is she?"

"Here," answered Brass. "A few floors down."

"Okay," Nick said without looking at him. "Let's just… Let's get this over with."

* * *

Sara sat with her head in her hands, staring blankly at the table.

They'd found a body. She'd been one of the first to know. Ecklie had told her personally, with much more sympathy than she'd ever expected from him.

At first she'd been alright. At first she'd taken the news very calmly, almost dispassionately. The part of her that was calculating took over. Sara took in all the odds and statistics and knew that it was probably him; Sara had known he was probably dead for some time now.

She'd wanted to see him.

Ecklie immediately said no.

He hadn't wanted her at the sight. He wanted her to go, sit down, and wait.

Reluctantly she'd agreed, and reluctantly she'd begun to hope. Sara hoped it wasn't true. She hoped it wasn't really Greg they'd found dead in the desert. She hoped that none of this was really happening.

But it was.

She battled it within herself, alternating between hopeful optimism and cold realism. Greg obviously wasn't with Tess at the hospital, and he had to be somewhere. Grissom, Catherine, Ecklie… Everyone seemed to think he'd be found in the middle of nowhere, and now there was a body. Why they thought that, no one would say. Sara couldn't bring herself to ask. She was torn between wanting to know everything and not wanting to hear another word about it.

She felt numb.

"Need some company?"

A cup of coffee placed before her, Sara offered a wan smile of thanks as Hodges took a chair opposite her own.

"It's awful," he commented, motioning to the cup, "but at least it's hot."

Sara placed both hands around the Styrofoam cup, but didn't take a drink.

"Aren't you off?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," he answered. "I couldn't go home. I thought about heading back to the hospital, but they're not letting anyone in yet, so here I am."

"How is Amy?"

"Last I heard she was doing well. How are you?"

"Everyone keeps asking that," Sara returned. "I don't know what to say. I'm… I'm here. That's how I am. Here."

"Yeah," Hodges agreed, nodding his head softly.

Silence settled around them comfortably for a few minutes before Hodges spoke again.

"I hope you know that…"

He stopped abruptly as the door opened and Grissom poked his head inside.

"Sara," he said, his voice kind but restrained.

This was it.

Hope was gone.

* * *

Nick took a moment, having just gotten off the phone with Catherine, to digest the news before entering the room alone. Tess had sent her lawyer away, against his gentle protests, and Nick had seen to it that the officer assigned to oversee her had stepped outside.

It was just the two of them.

"I didn't think you'd come."

"Why wouldn't I?" Nick asked as he casually took a seat in the far corner of the room.

"Well," Tess answered, leaning as far forward as her IV and restraints would allow, "I used to think of you as one of those guys… you know, the type that would rush off into danger. Stupid. But, when you didn't come earlier, I figured you were just scared."

"You mean when I didn't take the bait?"

Tess shrugged.

"Don't you have something to tell me?" Nick asked, leaning forward as he spoke.

"I have a lot of things to tell you."

"Why don't you start with where Greg is."

"I'd rather not."

"Tess…"

"She hated you," the woman interrupted. "Not at first, but by the end of it…. She hated you almost as much as she hated Sanders. It was almost infectious."

"This isn't why I'm here."

"Well, it's why I'm here and if you want to me to tell you where I left Sanders, bleeding with a bullet in his gut, then you're going to listen to me. You're going to sit and listen to what I have to say."

Nick bit his lips together tightly and managed a slight nod.

"She meant to kill you herself. Both of you. You ruined her life. First Sanders took her job and then you took her reputation."

"Reputation?" Nick fired back bitterly.

"You ruined her name as a detective," Tess responded. "Your incompetence put her in jeopardy. You made her a joke. You did that."

Nick shook his head, clenching his hands together tightly; determined not to provoke her further or argue with her needlessly.

"This whole thing was her idea. It was her way to get even."

"So, you're really going to try to pin this whole thing on your dead sister?"

"It was her," Tess spat back.

"And you went along with it."

"She was my sister," Tess yelled. "Of course I did. Wouldn't you?"

"Go along with something like this? Never. Never."

"Of course not," Tess replied, heavy on the sarcasm. "You're a boy scout. You'd never put even one toe out of line."

"I wouldn't kill."

"I did what I had to do."

"You organized this whole thing," Nick returned, angry even though he knew he should remain calm. "You set this up. Sure, it might have been Diane's idea to start with, but you were the one who put it into motion. You made the transfer. You got into contact with Mitch Anderson. You set up Paul Porter. It was you who planned the kidnappings. You who switched Greg's medication. It was all you. For what? Revenge? So you and Diane could even the score?"

"That's right."

"Is it? Is it even now?" Nick asked, his face stony. "Was it worth all this? How many are dead, Tess? Your sister. Charlie. Greg."

"Couldn't have done it without you, Nick."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're the one who got Diane set up in that nice, low-security institution. You're the one who agreed to leniency. Without you, I could have never gotten Diane out. We'd have never dreamed up any of this."

"Go to hell," Nick barked, jumping to his feet and causing his chair to slide back into the wall.

"Oh," Tess laughed. "If I believed in it, I probably would. I know that. I don't care. I did what I needed to for my family. What did you do for yours?"

Nick took two steps forward, fists clenched, before recollecting himself and heading back for the door. He got all the way there, had his hand on the doorknob, when Tess spoke again.

"Don't you want to know?"

"You're not going to tell me anything," Nick said without looking back. "You just want to rub my nose in it."

"I made him drive."

Nick stopped, waiting for more. Finally, convinced she wasn't going to speak again until he faced her, he resumed his seat.

"I made him drive out of Vegas," Tess said calmly. "North."

"North is kind of vague."

"I-15."

"Towards Utah."

"That's right," Tess nodded. "I made him drive out of the city and he knew. He knew why."

Nick said nothing, just slightly tipped his head in acknowledgment.

"I told him why. I wanted him to know exactly why. And I let him know that I was coming back for you, for Amy, for Sara. I made sure those were his last thoughts. That he'd know you'd all be next. His friends. His family."

Tess stared at him, but didn't seem to be enjoying herself as she had been previously. In fact, she sounded almost somber.

"I had him pull over on one of the more isolated stretches. We walked a good distance from the car and I did it."

"Where? Was he… Was he dead?"

"I'm not sure where," Tess admitted. "Somewhere before Utah. Not real far away. I lost track."

"And was he…"

"Could have been," Tess finished. "He could have been."

"How many times did you shoot him?"

"Twice."

"And?"

"And I took the photos to send to you later. I took his wallet and…"

"Did you shoot him again?" Nick asked.

"I don't know what I did after that."

Nick stared at her hard, trying to discern the truth, before finally nodding curtly.

It was probably true.

"I was so angry. I was so…" Tess began. "I don't remember anything after that, other than being back on the road and winding up here."

Nick sat for another minute or two, waiting for more, but she was done. Sensing that, Nick rose to his feet, ready to leave.

"He's dead," Tess said, her eyes fixed on his retreating form. "He's dead, and I did it. I did it for her."

"No."

"Yes, I did," Tess argued, some emotion finally creeping back into her voice. "I did it for her."

"I know that," Nick said, turning back around to face her again. "I meant Greg."

"What are you talking about?"

"He's not dead."

"I killed him, Stokes," Tess said bitterly. "I know that's not what you want to hear --"

"You're wrong, Tess," Nick said, his voice strangely calm. "You're wrong."

"I'm… You're lying. You're lying. I know it. I know…"

"Before I came in here, I got a call. They've found him. They found him and he was transported to Mesquite General hours ago. Probably longer than you've been here, Tess. Whatever you did, it wasn't enough. Greg's going to be fine."

"I don't believe you…"

"You don't have to believe me," Nick returned, opening the door to leave. "Greg can tell you all about it himself. At your trial."

"You're a liar!"

"Have a good night," Nick called without looking back, hopeful that he hadn't overstepped the truth.


	33. Surfacing

**Ties by SLynn  
****Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC  
**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'  
**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes: **So help me, I will finish this fic. I'd meant to hold off posting until I was complete (there is only one more chapter) but since I just can't seem to finish, I thought this might give me that kick in the butt I need. Thanks, of course, to Tripp3235 and RivenSky for their help. Thank you for reading and sticking with this. It will be done!

**Chapter 33: Surfacing**

Each breath was a struggle.

"Stay with us."

Each thought painful.

"Can you hear me? Can you…"

He tried to speak, to say anything, if only to let them know that he could hear them. He tried, but nothing came out but a dull creak that sounded dead in his own ears. Sight, sound and sensation were all slipping away; he thought he was going with them.

"What have you got?"

A flutter of light passed before his eyes; it wasn't over. It wasn't over yet.

"Gunshot wound to the abdomen. Doesn't look good."

A rough, forward motion made his insides lurch. He couldn't see much of anything. He wasn't really sure there was anything to see.

"Where'd they find him?"

More light whipping past, but nothing distinct; light like motion. They were heading somewhere, but it was too foggy to say. Things were becoming hazy and easy. It had gotten so easy to tune it all out. The pain had dulled along with his senses.

"A couple found him on the side of the highway. Highway patrol is all over it."

"Move him gently."

"Any idea who he is?"

"He'll need surgery."

"No idea. He didn't have a wallet or anything on him."

"Jesus, his face…"

"Focus, please. We roll on three."

"I think he's awake."

"One."

"He'll need something for the pain. Doctor?"

"Two."

"In a minute."

"Three."

He gasped and opened his eyes, feeling alive with pain; awake like he hadn't felt in hours.

"Move him back. Gently."

"Sir? Can you hear me? Do you know where you are?"

Until now the voices hadn't been attached to anyone, or thing, real. It was as if they'd floated in around him. This one was different. This voice was a woman, closer than the rest, and slowly coming into focus before his eyes.

"Sir?"

He tried to answer, but couldn't form anything intelligible.

"Sir? Can you--"

Abruptly, she was gone. He turned his head, slowly, left to right, and took in the room. There were so many people; so many things happening. Everything seemed to be blurring.

"It can wait. We need to get him into surgery. Now."

"Call it up."

They'd given him something. He'd felt it, even amid all the pain. This time the dullness felt planned. It felt purposeful.

"Is he ready?"

Now the world wasn't just blurred, it was slowing down. It felt like slipping, falling, fading…

"Cops are here. They want to know --"

Fading back into darkness.

"It has to wait. They can talk to him if…"

Gone.

The next time he opened his eyes, he was nearly blinded by the light around him before it finally softened and he could see again, albeit through a haze.

"He's coming round," a voice nearby said.

A woman with a surgical mask pulled down around her neck appeared to have moved his bed up slightly before turning to him with a tense smile.

"We'll have to remove the tube before you can talk again," she said, seeing him struggle slightly. "I imagine you have plenty to say."

He only shook his head from side-to-side, appearing confused.

"Do you remember what happened?"

Again, a slow shake of 'no'.

The woman frowned, jotting something on his chart, before saying, "You were shot. Three times in the abdomen. We were able to repair the damage and you were very lucky nothing major was pierced, but you did lose a significant amount of blood. You've been out of surgery now for," she paused to check the clock, "about an hour. You also have a few cracked ribs, a broken nose and, well, I won't lie, you're kind of a mess, but nothing you won't recover from."

He pointed to his throat, indicating he wanted to talk, but she just shook her head.

"You had a pretty bad allergic reaction and your airway started to close," she told him. "The tube is staying in until we're positive it won't reoccur."

He pointed next to his chart and the pen she was holding.

"Certainly," she answered, handing him a pad of paper and a pen.

His hands shook as he rapidly wrote out a series of questions, handing it back to her when he was done.

"Ah," she said. "I'm Dr. Poole and you are at Mesquite General."

He looked generally surprised to hear that, retrieving the pen from her and jotting down another set of questions.

"Well," she said, looking them over and repeating the question. "Was this an accident? I'd say no, but we're not sure. You think this happened at your job? Am I understanding… You were the only one brought in, so…"

He reached for the pen and paper again and, this time instead of handing it back, merely showed her what he'd written, clearly agitated now making Dr. Poole suspect he was beginning to remember things.

When she the page it was her turned to be surprised.

"You're name is Greg Sanders?" she asked, having not thought to connect the report coming out of Vegas with the man they'd found. Until now they'd assumed this was a drug deal gone bad, or something similar; his face had been so badly bruised and swollen, no one had recognized him from the pictures either.

Greg nodded without looking up, still writing something more.

"No," she answered when she saw it. "This didn't happen at an investigation. I'm really not sure how much I should… I'm going to call your Sherriff's department right now. They'll bring someone in right away and they'll have all the answers you need."

Greg shook his head, clearly unwilling to wait.

"I'm sorry," Dr. Poole said, as she moved away. "I really can't say any more."

* * *

By the time the first representative arrived Greg had been moved to a private room, complete with security, and was more lucid, and more confused than before. Dr. Poole had come in several times to check on him, had even removed the tube, but wouldn't give him any solid information.

It was almost a relief to see Detective Brass come into the room, even if his grim look confirmed to Greg that something serious had taken place.

"How are you doing?" Brass asked, pulling up a seat next to his bed.

"What's going on?" Greg asked, his voice still scratchy and dry.

"Why don't you tell me the last thing you recall and we'll work our way up to that," Brass returned, completely calm and professional.

Greg shut his eyes tightly and rubbed his forehead, trying to remember what he'd been doing before he'd woken up in this nightmare.

"Warrick," he finally said. "Warrick had come to my house and… and I think we were going to a scene. I… I don't remember… it's all kind of…"

"Do you know when that was?"

"I assume it was this morning, but… We were in a hurry, I know that. He was angry or… I can't remember. We were either needed at a scene or at the lab, I think. That seems right."

Brass nodded, jotting down a quick note, and realizing this wasn't going to be as easy as he'd thought.

"Was the scene here?" Greg asked. "Did something happen and… No one will tell me anything, so if you'd just…"

"The scene was at the lab, Greg," Brass replied, pausing to see if that brought anything back for him.

"At the lab?" Greg repeated, nothing obviously connecting.

"Yes."

Greg shut his eyes again, shaking his head, but this time Brass got the feeling it wasn't out of frustration. This time he might actually be recollecting it.

"It was a shooting," he said with an eerie calm.

It didn't feel real.

Brass only nodded.

"Amy…" Greg went on. "Amy and Charlie and… and Ortega."

"That's right."

"They're all…" Greg started to ask, but couldn't continue; he couldn't remember it all. It was still fuzzy and he wasn't sure he wanted to know any more.

"Amy is recovering," Brass confirmed for him. "She's fine and so is her baby. Charlie didn't make it."

"How did I get here?" Greg asked, his voice still steady despite the internal conflict. "I went to the hospital. I was there. I was with Warrick, and then Sara and Nick. You… you were there and…"

"You went back to the lab," Brass provided, hoping he could make the next step on his own. They had a solid case already against Bates, but a live witness would nail it shut for good.

"Yeah," Greg said with a nod. "I did. I went back and… and I was with Sofia."

"And?"

"And that's it," Greg said quickly. "I can't… there's nothing after that. I was with Sofia and…"

"Greg," Brass said evenly. "Are you positive that's it? That there is nothing else…"

"I can't…" Greg stammered. "It's just blank after that. It's… I'm sorry. I don't know. How did this happen? How…"

"It's alright, Greg," Brass said reassuringly.

"Do you know what happened?" Greg asked now, more worried than before.

"We have a good idea," Brass supplied, but wouldn't elaborate.

There was a gentle tap on the door followed by Ecklie poking his head inside.

"Are you done?" he asked Brass.

"I think so," Brass answered, standing up.

"How are you feeling, Greg?" Ecklie asked, stepping inside and shutting the door.

"I'm fine," he lied, feeling anything but. "I just want to know what's going on."

Ecklie looked at Brass, clearly surprised.

"He doesn't remember," the other man provided. "Dr. Poole said that it could happen."

"Will it make a difference?"

"In the case," Brass said. "No. We've got enough."

"Then let him know," Ecklie said firmly.

Greg, who had watched the exchange uneasily, was now relieved; he knew it couldn't be good, he had been beaten and shot after all, but not knowing the details was excruciating.

"Is she here?" Brass asked, instead of beginning directly.

"I'll bring her in," Ecklie said, exiting quietly.

Greg looked at Brass expectantly, but when the door opened again a wave of relief washed over him as Sara stepped inside.

Her face was a grimace, something he knew she did when she was really upset, and she looked close to tears, but Sara wasn't crying. Sara was holding it together quite well, better than he was, Greg thought.

Sara moved quickly to his side and gently took his hand, squeezing it once and seemingly incapable of speech.

Greg squeezed her hand in return before bringing it to his lips and kissing it, an action that proved too much for her as finally a few tears slid loose from her eyes.

Sara tried to smile, bringing her free hand up and gently touching his face.

"Whenever you're ready," Brass said quietly to Greg.

Greg smiled briefly at Sara, her fingers interlacing with his own, before turning back to Brass with a nod.

"Yeah," he said, braced for the worst. "I want to know."


	34. Happy Endings

**Ties by SLynn  
****Summary:** Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC  
**Spoilers:** Up to 'Nesting Dolls'  
**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes:** This is it. The end. More notes at the bottom, but, for the last time… Enjoy!

**Chapter 34: Happy Endings**

The sheer volume of evidence was staggering. Once the crime lab had pieced together Tess Bates's involvement, her manipulation of them and the system, it had all tied together nicely. Between her run in with Warrick, her conversation with Nick, the car, the fact that her sister was Diane Ortega, her connection with Mitch Anderson, they didn't need Greg as an eyewitness. She'd thrown away all caution in the end, after Diane's death, and it had cost her.

On top of all that, she left one accomplice alive. Jennifer Isaacs, Paul Porter's only living employee, voluntarily came forward two days after the event. She offered up a full confession and only asked for leniency. She hadn't realized it would go so far and had panicked when Paul had been killed. Ms. Isaacs was able to tie Tess not only to Porter, but the kidnappings and the death of Bonnie Watts.

For some time Tess maintained her innocence and refused to talk. Her lawyer, after several long interviews, finally got her to see reason, to realize how serious this all was, and to at least attempt a plea bargain, but, initially, the district attorney wouldn't hear it. The DA wanted a trial and pressed hard for one, only backing down when Tess's lawyer wrested a deal where she would plead guilty to two counts of murder in the second and agree to serve forty years to life without parole. It was the only deal that would assure her her life, all things considered.

During the entire time Greg had been placed first on medial leave and then administrative. All in all, it took about six months.

The first week he'd spent at Mesquite General before being transferred back to UMC. After another few weeks of observation and a very minor setback due to infection, he was released to recuperate at home. During that time he'd missed Charlie's funeral and, since then, hadn't seen or heard from Charlie's family or from Matt. Greg knew it was nothing personal, that they really didn't know him very well, but it felt strange to be so quickly cut off from his friend without any real closure.

Amy had stayed in the hospital longer than Greg and at her thirty-fourth week of pregnancy delivered a beautiful baby girl weighing just under five pounds. Erin Marie Stokes remained at the hospital for two more weeks before Amy and Nick took her home. She was doing very well, and despite her premature status, there was nothing physically wrong with her. Amy's mother, Lynn, had stayed in Vegas with her daughter until Erin was a month old at which time Sharon, Nick's mother, came to visit, staying with them for three weeks to get to know her new granddaughter. Both grandmothers returned to Vegas, Lynn with Jennifer in tow, when Erin turned three months as Karen and Sara held a late, surprise baby shower for Amy.

Greg, during all of his time off of work, finally managed to finish his master's degree and moved on to his doctorate. He knew it would be a long time before he'd finished it, but was glad to have something to do.

The truth was, there was too much to think about. If Greg didn't stay actively thinking about something other than all of the horrific things that had happened, he knew he wouldn't make it. Greg had gone back to seeing Dr. Jennings twice a week, had gone back to religiously taking and checking his medication and, despite it all, finally felt like he had that part of his life back under control. He'd talked about it with Dr. Jennings, with Sara, with Nick and with Amy; Greg talked to any one that wanted to talk and would listen in return. He was tired of keeping it all inside.

The two most important conversations he had, early on, were with Grissom and Ecklie.

Ecklie told him that, if he wanted it, Greg was free to move back to the graveyard shift with Grissom as his supervisor. Ecklie knew that Greg and Sara could work together and still be professional. What's more, because of the leave of absence Greg was being forced to take, Catherine would have no choice but to give the promotion to Kevin. This way, if Greg changed shifts, he too could be promoted as soon as he returned. Greg had thanked him and accepted it without hesitation. It was the easiest decision he'd ever made.

His talk with Grissom wasn't nearly as pleasant.

For four months Greg internally debated what to do and who to talk to. Finally he approached Grissom, who he had always considered a professional mentor, and admitted that he wasn't sure he could do this job any more. Grissom, as he'd expected, had been supportive and rational, and only asked that Greg really think things through before making any permanent change. Any accommodations that Grissom could make for him, he would, but he understood why Greg had his doubts.

Another month passed and Greg knew time was running out. He would have to decide, one way or another, what he was going to do, and he had to talk to Sara. Telling Grissom had been easy; telling Sara would not. But what other choice was there? He should have told her the moment the doubts had started to creep in, but he couldn't. After Ecklie had officially moved him back, Sara had been excited about the idea of them working together again even if, because of the move, Grissom had made Nick his assistant supervisor. Greg didn't want to disappoint her with his own shortcomings; not again.

So he waited, and put it off, and basically avoided the problem, all the while growing more moody and distant as he brooded.

"What are you doing?" Sara asked, finding him in the spare room with the contents of his case spread out on the floor.

"Just reorganizing," Greg returned without looking up.

"Getting ready?"

"Yeah," he said shortly.

Sara lingered in the doorway and watched as Greg continued to work. Watching as he shuffled items around with his back to her. Unable to read his mind but still certain she knew what was going on inside his head.

Sighing, she came into the room and sat down on his bright yellow couch.

Greg briefly met her eyes before resuming his task.

"Is something wrong?"

His chin dropped to his chest as his hands clenched tightly around the bottles he'd been in the process of repacking.

"Greg?"

"I can't…"

Sara slid off the couch to sit beside him on the floor. Gently, she took the items from his hands and put them aside, taking hold of his hands in hers and squeezing them tightly.

"It's okay," she said softly.

"It's not okay."

"Greg," Sara sighed. "You've talked about it but… but you really haven't. Not about what's important. Not about how you feel."

"I don't always need to talk about how I feel," Greg fired back, but not unkindly.

"I know," she said with an almost laugh. "I'm the same way, so, I do know. But, Greg… I know you're trying so hard. You've been really honest with me and, at the same time, really detached."

Greg looked up at her in surprise.

"We've talked about what happened, and how it happened, and where, and why… but we've never talked about who. And the who is really important, Greg. We've never talked about how any of this makes you feel."

"It's pretty obvious, isn't it?"

"No."

Greg shook his head slowly.

"Greg, I just want you to tell me," Sara continued after a lengthy pause. "If you don't want to go back, that's fine. But it has to be for the right reasons. It has to be because you don't want to do this anymore and not because you're afraid to face what's happened."

"You think I'm not…"

"I know you're not facing this," Sara interrupted. "The way you talk about it… it's like you're talking about someone else entirely. Like it some case you read about. You may have everyone else fooled, Greg, but not me. I know you better than that."

"It's… it's hard not to feel that way, Sara," Greg finally said. "Like it wasn't real. Like it wasn't me. I can't… I really can't remember any of that night and the days before that are still really… I don't want to remember it, but…"

He stopped and shook his head as if to clear it as Sara still held tightly to his hands.

"The lab… that was the last place I remember clearly and… and if I go back then I might remember it all and I don't want to. I don't want to relive that."

"Greg…"

"I know I'm being stupid."

"You're not," Sara assured him. "I understand, but…"

Greg looked at her and waited as she tried to formulate the best way to say whatever it was Sara still had on her mind.

"But," she continued, "this is what she wants. This is exactly… Greg, the doctors have all said that you may never remember what happened that night. You could go another sixty years and not remember or you could be walking down the street and it may just suddenly come back. She wanted to wreck you, Greg. She wanted this. That lab is just a building. And, if you do remember it, it's still just the past. I know it isn't easy to forget or get over, but you have to keep living. You can't avoid it, Greg. You can't run away from this. I know. I know because, the further you run, the worse it is when it finally catches you. And it always catches you."

Greg pulled her to him for a quick kiss before smiling sadly.

"I feel so responsible for it all," he said quietly.

"You didn't do this."

"Part of me knows that," he sighed. "I do. I just can't stop myself from feeling so guilty."

"No one blames you for this."

"I wish they would."

"Greg…"

"I'm serious. I wish someone would just tell me this is my fault and then maybe I can get over it. I just… I don't know what to do."

"Do you really not want to go back to the lab? Ever?"

Greg shrugged his shoulders uncertainly.

"Do you really hate what you do? The job you do? Do you think you can't handle it any more?"

"No," Greg admitted. "I love what… I worry, is all. I worry that this could happen again. I don't know what I'd do if this happened again."

"It's going to be okay."

"What if it isn't?"

"Greg," Sara laughed despite the tears that had started to form in her eyes. "We've been here before. We've… we've been through so much together that, you have to know by now, that it's going to be okay. As long as we're together, it will always be okay. Better than okay. Good even. Occasionally great."

"Only occasionally?" Greg asked with a laugh.

"Special occasions."

"Oh, God, I'm being a fool, aren't I?"

"No," Sara said warmly. "You're not. I understand, Greg. I do. I just wish you'd told me sooner."

"You knew?"

"I'd guessed," Sara supplied. "I've gotten pretty good at figuring you out."

"I guess you have," he returned.

For a moment they both sat there in silence.

"What should I do?" he finally asked.

"I don't…"

"What would you do?" he interrupted before she could finish.

"I'd at least try, Greg. You should at least try."

Greg closed his eyes tightly before nodding slowly in agreement.

"I can do that."

Greg put on a brave face, but when the time came, Sara knew that he was struggling. Getting ready that night, all throughout dinner, and even during the drive, he'd maintained a strict silence, and when he chose to park in the parking lot and not the garage, Sara couldn't really blame him.

"Ready?" she asked as they sat in the car a bit longer than was necessary.

"Yeah," he answered, getting out without another look in her direction.

Because he'd been gone so long, and because security had been reevaluated, they had to go through the front entrance. Greg was not surprised, only amused, to find Gretchen back in her typical place. It seems that Kevin had admitted, not long after Gretchen had been fired, that she was talking to him that night on the phone, not her sister. Technically, it was still a violation, but not nearly as serious a breach as they'd supposed. The two of them had been apologetic about the whole event and Kevin's connections had done the rest. From what he'd heard from Amy, they were getting married next summer.

"You'll need to sign for this," Gretchen said, handing Greg his new ID and briefly explaining the new procedures for entering and exiting the lab.

Greg nodded, only partially paying attention, as he checked out his badge and signed off on it.

"Security is going to want a more recent picture," she continued, "but that one will do for now."

"Thanks," Greg said, moving towards the secondary entrance with Sara.

"Welcome back," Gretchen called back just before he got the door open.

"You too," Greg said, smiling even at the sudden change in her behavior towards him; love can do that.

The lab hadn't changed a bit in all the time Greg had been gone. It was still bustling with activity, even so late into the night, and it was still warmly familiar.

The call of, "Sanders," stopped the two of them in their tracks, but when Greg turned, he didn't recognize the man who had said it. It wasn't until the man, average height with dark eyes and a dark complexion, began talking that Greg realized he'd been addressing Sara and not himself.

"I was just about to page you," he said. "DNA just got a hit on our murder in Green Valley. Brass is already talking with Grissom and wants you there when we pick him up. Are you ready?"

Sara looked momentarily conflicted as her eyes darted quickly to Greg. She knew how important it was for her to be with him, but this was also important; this was part of the job.

"Go," Greg urged her. "I'm good. Go."

The man finally looked at him, as if just now aware he'd been there all this time, and Greg saw the flash of recognition.

"Detective Singh," Sara began, "this is my husband, the other Sanders."

"Greg is fine," he said for himself, extending a hand.

"I'm Jay," the man said, shaking his hand in return with a smile. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Greg smiled uncomfortably aware that he was finally being introduced to Charlie's replacement.

"Um," Jay said, pulling back slightly and looking over his shoulder, "Sara? If we're going to go…"

Sara looked at Greg again, willing to stay back if he needed her, but he shook his head and again urged her follow.

"This shouldn't take long," she said, squeezing his arm and smiling at him. "We'll take our break together."

"Go," Greg repeated, smiling as best as he could as he watched Sara hurry off with Detective Singh.

Greg turned, continuing on to the break room to wait for the start of shift. After a few minutes of nervous fidgeting, Greg decided to make a fresh pot of coffee, not because he wanted any, but because he needed something to do.

Halfway through his task he heard Hodges saying, "I've got it. Don't worry, just go."

Turning to see what Hodges had, Greg smiled and said, "Hi, sweetie."

"Hello, yourself," Hodges returned dryly.

"I was talking to Erin," Greg said, crossing the room and taking the baby out of his arms. "Where's Amy?"

"She's still finishing up," Hodges explained. "Nick got called in a bit early and my hands were free so…"

"I thought they had this worked out," Greg said as Erin, too tired to play, dropped her head against his shoulder with a massive yawn.

Amy had only just come back to work herself this past month, and the adjustment was huge. She was still working swing shift, with Wendy permanently taking over graveyard. Technically, it should have been fine, but there were still some minor kinks, like the fact that Nick was constantly being called in early.

"I think Karen was supposed to come by but…" Hodges said, trailing off with a shrug.

"Well, Nick was leaving her with me on nights like this," Greg reasoned. "Maybe she forgot."

"Probably," Hodges agreed. "Amy thinks they may have to get a nanny."

"What? No," Greg argued. "They can work this out, I'm sure, without going that far."

Hodges nodded in agreement. So far, no one had any issues with Erin occasionally showing up to work with either Nick or Amy. Someone was usually free long enough to watch her during shift change.

"Oh, thank you," Amy said as she joined them in the break room, looking exhausted. "Wendy just showed up and cut me loose. I'm so sorry, Dave. Really, thank you so much."

"Hey," Greg objected. "I'm the one holding her."

"Thank you, too," Amy said with a smile. "And welcome back. I bet you didn't think you'd be babysitting still, right?"

"Not exactly how I pictured the night going," Greg admitted, "but I don't mind."

"Here," Amy said, taking Erin gently out of Greg's arms. "I'll take her. We need to get home and get some sleep. Thank you both," Amy repeated, dropping a kiss on Greg's cheek and then Dave's. "I don't know what we'd do without everyone being…"

"Oh, stop it," Dave interrupted before Amy got too emotional. "Let me help you to your car."

"Bye, Greg," Amy said from the doorway with a smile.

"Bye," Greg returned as Hodges offered him a small wave from the door.

Greg watched as they moved down the hall, stopping as they met up briefly with Nick, who kissed Amy and Erin both goodbye before joining up with Greg.

"No meeting tonight," Nick said as soon as he got through the door. "You and I are going to Summerlin for a breaking and entering. Ready?"

"Now?" Greg asked, kind of surprised.

"Yeah," Nick said with a near laugh.

"Okay," Greg said, kind of thrown off. He was expecting to have a bit more time, but maybe this was better. "I just need to get my things and… yeah, let's go."

Nick looked at Greg, slightly anxious, but ready to believe that Greg was ready and followed him out the door and towards the locker room.

Greg hadn't felt nervous or tense until this moment. Maybe it hadn't been so much about the lab after all, but that it really was the job. This was going to be it, the big test. If he could make it through…

Greg stopped in his tracks as they passed a small conference room, turning even to go back for a second look.

"What's wrong?" Nick asked, looking as well.

"I thought…" Greg began, before shaking his head and realizing he had to have been mistaken. The room was empty. "It's nothing."

"Are you sure?" Nick questioned, growing concerned as the color slipped from Greg's face.

"Positive," Greg returned. "We'd better get going, right?"

"Yeah," Nick agreed uneasily as Greg continued on, trying to appear as if nothing happened.

They didn't speak again until they were in the SUV and on their way to the scene.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Nick finally had to ask. "You looked pretty shaken. You're not having… You didn't…"

"No," Greg said quickly enough. "I didn't remember anything. Nothing new at least. It's… that was the last place I did remember. That room."

Nick nodded feeling better about it now that Greg had relaxed.

"Um," Nick said after a long pause, "Matt stopped by the other day. He asked how you were doing."

"How is he?"

"He's alright," Nick answered. "It's hard to tell. He didn't say much or stay long. Amy still keeps in touch with him but I hadn't seen him since…"

"I keep meaning to call," Greg admitted, "but I never know what to say."

They settled back into an awkward silence that lasted until Nick stopped at the scene.

"Ready?" he asked Greg once more.

Greg gave the surroundings a tentative glance.

"If I said I wasn't?"

"I'll drive you back," Nick answered calmly. "But, it's not going to get any easier. Greg, honestly, if you don't get out of the car now…"

"I never will," Greg finished for him.

"One step at a time."

"It's just that easy, huh?" Greg asked with a nervous laugh.

"No, it's just that hard."

Greg sighed, scanning the scene one more time from the seclusion of the vehicle; spotting Catherine and then Warrick, both trying to appear as if they hadn't just been watching and waiting for his next movement.

"You know," Greg said, "it wasn't too long ago that all this mothering and attention you have all been giving me would have really, really pissed me off."

"Mothering?" Nick repeated disdainfully.

"Yes," Greg said firmly. "Mothering. But now… I know you're all trying to help me. You are helping me and… Thank you. This hasn't been… Thank you."

Nick smiled tightly and Greg let out a deep breath.

"Are you going to get out of the car or what?" Nick finally asked with a real smile.

"Wow," Greg said, "I thought Warrick let his promotion go to his head. Was that an order?"

"Yes, it was," Nick said, playing along. "Get out of the damn car, Greg. Now. Or I'll write you up."

"Give a guy a little bit of power…" Greg smiled as he opened the door and stepped out.

"Just wait till you have a level one to boss around," Nick returned.

"Oh," Greg sighed, "I can't wait. I've got years of frustration from the torture you all put me through to work out. It's going to be great."

Nick laughed as they each took their cases and walked to where Catherine and Warrick were waiting for them.

"Hey," Nick said defensively, "it was all done out of love, man."

"Yes," Greg agreed. "Your love of seeing me suffer."

Nick laughed once more before getting serious and setting to work. Greg stood back a little, taking it in and trying to stay focused. Sara was right. Nick was right. He could do this. He had to do this if he wanted to get on with his life. He couldn't let what had happened ruin everything he had, everything he worked for. He wouldn't let it.

It wouldn't happen over night. It would take time and patience and a lot of effort and hard work, but it could be done. He was going to get that happy ending.

Greg was going to make sure of it.

**The End**

**A/N: **I don't usually put these at the end, but since this is the end, I had to do something. I wanted to say thank you to everyone who put up with the years of waiting for this and who have constantly encouraged, read, commented and supported me throughout. I haven't always been the most diligent responder (or writer), but I read every comment and enjoy the feedback and again, thank you.

I always wanted to do seven of these stories, but I think this may actually be it. I've grown away from this fandom over the recent years and, although I have a few minor plots still buzzing around my head, can't see doing another major story, even for this arc. That doesn't mean I won't, I'd never say never, but I will say that I have nothing further planned. Out of curiosity, I added it up. If you've made it this far, you've read approximately 384,956 words. Yikes.

Big, big thanks to RivenSky and Tripp3235 who have put up with my whining and complaining and bad grammar and poor word choices with good-natured grace. Never once have they yelled at me to just get on with it or laughed openly in my face. If I take nothing more away from this ordeal, I ended up with two new friends. Thank you!

If you have any questions, any comments, anything further you just have to know, drop me a line and I will get back to you.

Again, thank you!


End file.
